THE  EARLY   LIFE 

OF 

JOHN   HOWARD   PAYNE 


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'A/rHo.DgoA^'!9l3) 


THE 
EARLY  LIFE 


OF 


JOHN   HOW  AKl)  PAYNE 

WIJH    COx\rKMPQKAR^'    LKTTRRv.    ,    , 
Ijcemember  him   a   rosy-cheeked    Doy, 
HERETOFORE    rXPt'HT  ISHhD 
with  his  collar   open,    and   tied   with  a  r3ack 

ribbon.  "     The  New  York  MIRROR,  NcveTn- 

ber  24,   1832.     Mr.B^heo.    S.   Fay,   desert  ng 

1807, — "five  and  twenty  years  ago." 


A  LIMITED  NUMBER  OF  COPIES  OF  THIS  WORK  HAVE  BEEN 

PRINTED  PRIVATELY    FOR    THE    EDITOR,    FOR 

COMPLIMENTARY    OISTRlBiniON' 


BOSTON  —  MCMXIIl 


acifiM  s  riJiw  bait  6ns  ,n3qo  ^bIIod  aid  ri*rw 
-tti3-/Dt1  .HOHHIM  jftoY  waH  »riT  ".aoddh 
;;rTidaD33b  ^x^'^  -2  .oariT  .iM  .££8t  ^I^S  lad 
t   rrrri  baiacfmamsT  :?r:  -s  an-^^q  fnswoH  nrfo[. 


^/ 


YlMl 


^^^'^Hn^^WiWff^'W 


THE 
EARLY  LIFE 


OF 


JOHN  HOWARD  PAYNE 

WITH   CONTEMPORARY   LETTERS 
HERETOFORE   UNPUBLISHED 


BY 

WILLIS    T.  HANSON,  Jr.,  A.M. 


A  LIMITED  NUMBER  OF  COPIES  OF  THIS  WORK  HAVE  BEEN 

PRINTED   PRIVATELY    FOR    THE    EDITOR,    FOR 

COMPLIMENTARY  DISTRIBUTION 


BOSTON  —  MCMXIII 


Copyright,  1913,  by 
The  Bibliophile  Society 


THE   university   PRESS,   CAMBRIDGE,  U.S.A. 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

IV/rY  interest  in  the  early  life  of  John  Howard 
Payne  dates  from  the  day  when  chance 
threw  into  my  possession  a  volume  of  letters 
concerning  which  Payne  wrote  as  follows: — 

London,  August  20,  1819. 

I  have  determined  this  day  to  begin  and 
transcribe  in  as  regular  succession  as  possible 
all  the  copies  of  letters  now  in  my  possession, 
although  there  are  many  which  can  serve  no 
purpose  but  that  of  recalling  the  recollection 
of  events  by  which  they  were  produced. 

While  several  of  the  volumes  containing  his 
letters  after  18 19  have  for  some  time  been 
known,  the  first  and  most  important  seems 
to  have  escaped  even  the  most  energetic  of 
Payne's  biographers.  Transcribed  with  the 
greatest  amount  of  care  and  neatness,  these 
early  letters  form  a  volume  which  is  truly 
unique.  It  is  Payne's  own  story  of  his  life, 
his  struggles,  his  thoughts  and  his  ambitions 
during  that  period  of  which  heretofore  so  much 
has  been  guessed  at,  and  so  little  known. 

Willis  T.  Hanson,  Jr. 


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INTRODUCTION 

The  perennial  fame  of  John  Howard  Payne 
is  primarily  based  upon  his  authorship  of  the 
words  of  that  immortal  song,  "Home,  Sweet 
Home."  Although  ninety  years  have  passed 
since  it  was  first  sung  by  Miss  Maria  Tree 
at  the  Covent  Garden  Theater,  London,  this 
song  is  today  perhaps  the  most  universally 
known  and  most  popular  ballad  in  the  Eng- 
lish language. 

While  it  is  popularly  supposed  that,  except 
for  the  writing  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home," 
Payne  accomplished  little  of  moment,  and 
while  there  is  a  general  tendency  to  brand 
his  life  a  failure,  such  a  notion  is  wrong,  and 
such  a  tendency  unjust. 

Payne's  name  is  prominently  associated 
with  the  early  American  drama.  He  was  the 
first  native  American  who  as  an  actor  or 
dramatist  ever  attracted  attention  in  Europe, 
and  whose  plays  were  adopted  as  stock  pieces 
at  their  theaters.     Of  the  sixty-three  ^  plays 

*  Eleven  Tragedies,  nine  Comedies,  twenty-six  Dramas 
and  Melodramas,  seven  Operas  and  ten  Farces. 

II 


INTRODUCTION 

The  perennial  fame  of  John  Howard  Payne 
is  primarily  based  upon  his  authorship  of  the 
words  of  that  immortal  song,  "Home,  Sweet 
Home."  Although  ninety  years  have  passed 
since  it  was  first  sung  by  Miss  Maria  Tree 
at  the  Covent  Garden  Theater,  London,  this 
song  is  today  perhaps  the  most  universally 
known  and  most  popular  ballad  in  the  Eng- 
lish language. 

While  it  is  popularly  supposed  that,  except 
for  the  writing  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home," 
Payne  accomplished  little  of  moment,  and 
while  there  is  a  general  tendency  to  brand 
his  life  a  failure,  such  a  notion  is  wrong,  and 
such  a  tendency  unjust. 

Payne's  name  is  prominently  associated 
with  the  early  American  drama.  He  was  the 
first  native  American  who  as  an  actor  or 
dramatist  ever  attracted  attention  in  Europe, 
and  whose  plays  were  adopted  as  stock  pieces 
at  their  theaters.     Of  the  sixty-three  ^  plays 

^  Eleven  Tragedies,  nine  Comedies,  twenty-six  Dramas 
and  Melodramas,  seven  Operas  and  ten  Farces. 

II 


written  by  him,  four  ^  were  among  the  great- 
est successes  of  their  day.  Although  Payne's 
work  was  mainly  adaptive,  none  the  less  is 
credit  due  to  his  master  hand.  How  great 
was  his  skill  may  be  seen  in  the  case  of  the 
best  known  of  his  plays,  the  poetic  tragedy, 
Brutus,  or  the  Fall  of  Tarquin.  From  seven 
plays  upon  the  subject  of  Brutus  — only  two 
of  which  had  been  thought  capable  of  repre- 
sentation, and  those  two  marked  failures  — 
Payne  evolved  a  tragedy  which,  produced  by 
Edmund  Kean  in  1818,  met  with  instant  suc- 
cess and  held  the  stage  until  into  the  seventies. 
Played  in  America  by  such  renowned  actors  as 
McCullough,  Edwin  Forrest  and  Edwin  Booth, 
Brutus  seems  worthy  to  hold  its  place  with  the 
best  of  the  tragedies  of  the  period. 

Throughout  his  life  Payne  was  abused  for 
opinions  which  he  did  not  utter,  and  perse- 
cuted for  errors  which  he  did  not  commit. 

^  Brutus;  or.  The  Fall  of  Tarquin.  A  tragedy  first  pro- 
duced at  Drury  Lane  Theater,  London,  December  3,  1818. 

Therese;  or.  The  Orphan  of  Geneva.  A  drama,  first  pro- 
duced at  Drury  Lane  Theater,  London,  February  2,  1821. 

Clari;  or,  The  Maid  of  Milan.  An  opera,  first  produced 
at  Covent  Garden  Theater,  London,  May  8,  1823. 

Charles  the  Second;  or,  The  Merry  Monarch.  A  comedy, 
first  produced  at  Covent  Garden  Theater,  London,  May  27 
1824. 

12 


To  all  attacks  Payne  maintained  a  charitable 
silence,  confining  his  sufferings  to  himself. 
Even  now,  sixty  years  after  his  death,  these 
baseless  accusations  still  detract  from  his  well- 
merited  fame. 

"Whatever  may  have  been  his  life,  his  suc- 
cesses, his  disappointments,  or  his  character, 
no  poet,  actor,  editor,  or  consul  was  ever  laid 
to  rest  with  higher  honors"  ^  than  when  on 
June  9,  1883,  thirty-one  years  after  his  death, 
the  remains  of  John  Howard  Payne  were 
brought  — 

Back  to  the  bosom  of  his  own  loved  land,  — 
Back  to  his  kindred,  friends,  his  own  Sweet  Home,^ 

and  reinterred  in  Oak  Hill  Cemetery,  Wash- 
ington, D.  C. 

It  is  my  intention  in  the  following  pages  to 
trace  the  life  of  John  Howard  Payne  to  the 
commencement  of  the  year  1813,  when  he 
found  it  advisable  to  leave  America  to  seek 
his  fortune  in  England. 

To  this  period  in  Payne's  life  we  should 
look  for  the  more  noteworthy  incidents  of  his 

^  Life  and  Writings  of  John  Howard  Payne.    G.  Harrison. 

Pg-  293. 

2  From  the  poem  read  at  the  unveiling  of  the  Payne  mon- 
ument at  Oak  Hill  Cemetery. 

13 


career.  The  accomplishments  of  John  How- 
ard Payne  —  the  Man,  although  to  the  world 
better  known,  seem  in  no  degree  so  remark- 
able as  his  early  accomplishments,  and  with 
this  feeling  I  have  made  every  effort  to  bring 
to  light  the  ambitions,  acts,  and  very  thoughts 
of  John  Howard  Payne  —  the  Youth. 


14 


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14 


EARLY  LIFE  OF  JOHN  HOWARD 
PAYNE 

John  Howard  Payne,  the  sixth  of  a  family 
of  nine  children,  was  born  in  the  city  of  New 
York,  at  No.  33  Pearl  Street,  on  the  ninth  of 
June,  1791.^  He  was  the  son  of  William 
Payne,  by  his  second  wife,  Sarah  Isaacs,  whose 
father — a  convert  from  the  Jewish  faith,  a 
man  of  good  education,  much  respected,  and 
of  some  means — had  settled  at  East  Hampton, 
Long  Island,  many  years  previous  to  the  Revo- 
lution. On  his  father's  side  especially,  John 
Howard  Payne  was  well  connected.  His  pater- 
nal ancestors  were  of  English  blood.  Judge 
Robert  Treat  Paine,  of  Boston,  one  of  the 
signers  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence, 
and  Robert  Treat  Paine,  Jr.,  a  poet  of  no 
mean  ability,  were  of  the  same  family,  as  was 
Dolly  Payne,  wife  of  President  Madison. 

Soon  after  his  marriage  to  Sarah  Isaacs,  in 

^  There  have  been  many  mis-statements  as  to  the  year  of 
Payne's  birth.  Many  articles  regarding  him,  and  most  ency- 
clopedias, give  the  year  as  1792.  Mr.  Harrison  writes  at 
some  length  to  give  proof  that  the  year  should  be  1791,  and 
this  year  is  now  generally  accepted  as  the  correct  one. 

IS 


1780,  Mr.  Payne  was  placed  at  the  head  of 
the  Clinton  Academy,  just  erected  at  East 
Hampton.  His  already  recognized  reputa- 
tion as  an  instructor  was  greatly  augmented 
during  the  several  years  that  he  remained 
there  as  principal. 

The  reputation  thus  acquired  was  not  lost 
sight  of  during  the  period  of  William  Payne's 
residence  in  New  York,  following  his  removal 
from  East  Hampton,  and  led  to  his  being 
chosen  to  direct  an  institution  at  Boston, 
later  known  as  the  Berry  Street  Academy. 
To  take  up  the  duties  of  his  new  office,  he 
moved  with  his  family  to  Boston,  in  1796. 

The  frequent  visits  of  the  child  John 
Howard  to  his  mother's  old  home^  at  East 
Hampton  during  the  residence  of  the  Paynes 
in  New  York,  —  "the  birds  and  the  lambkins 
that  came  at  his  call,"  —  made  a  never  to  be 
forgotten  impression  on  the  youthful  mind. 
"The  lowly,  thatched  cottage"  was  always 
his  "Home,  Sweet  Home!" 

^  The  Payne  Cottage  is  now  owned  by  Mr.  G.  H.  Buek. 
Tradition  has  woven  a  great  deal  of  romance  about  the  Cot- 
tage, but  it  seems  to  rest  on  a  very  feeble  hypothesis.  There 
are  no  records  to  show  that  Payne  ever  lived  in  the  house,, 
although  he  undoubtedly  paid  frequent  visits  to  his  relatives 
in  East  Hampton.    (Thatcher  T.  P.  Luquer.) 

16 


With  his  removal  to  Boston  the  education 
of  young  Payne  began  in  earnest.  It  must 
have  been  by  close  application  that  he  ac- 
quired the  remarkable  store  of  knowledge 
exhibited  at  the  age  of  twelve,  when  as  we  are 
told  he  was  able  "to  support  the  conversa- 
tion, and  to  perform  the  duties  and  transac- 
tions of  maturity."  ^  His  progress  was  the 
more  remarkable  as  for  two  or  three  years 
previous  to  this  period  a  nervous  complaint 
had  practically  unfitted  him  for  profound 
study. 

In  spite  of  his  studies  and  ailments  Payne 
seems  to  have  entered  into  boyish  sports  with 
a  zest,  —  in  fact  he  became  a  leader  in  the 
school,  and  outside.  At  twelve  we  find  him 
familiarly  known  as  "Captain  Payne,"  be- 
cause of  a  little  military  organization  which 
he  founded,  and  which  attracted  attention 
throughout  Boston. 

Payne's  father  owed  much  of  his  reputa- 
tion as  a  teacher  to  his  skill  in  elocution. 
Young  Payne  took  great  interest  in  this 
branch  of  study.  He  was  encouraged  by  his 
father  who  saw  in  it  a  means  of  transferring 

^  Memoirs  of  John  Howard  Payne,  the  American  Roscius. 
London,   1815.     Pg.   2. 

17 


his  attention  from  too  serious  study  to  a 
course  of  work  better  adapted  to  his  physical 
improvement.  How  different  would  have 
been  his  father's  attitude  had  he  foreseen  the 
result  of  his  encouragement  and  instruction, 
which  coupled  with  his  son's  ability  soon 
rendered  him  most  proficient  in  the  art  of 
declamation. 

During  the  winter  of  1 804-1 805,  the  Betty- 
mania  in  England  was  at  its  height.  Two 
years  previous,  William  Henry  West  Betty 
at  the  age  of  eleven  years  made  his  debut  at 
Belfast  in  the  tragedy  of  Zara.  The  novelty 
of  the  enterprise  drew  a  crowd,  —  "the  crowd 
applauded,  and  wondered,  other  crowds  suc- 
ceeded, and  the  *  wonder  grew.'"  ^  The  fame 
of  young  Betty  spread  like  wildfire.  Stirred 
by  the  reports  of  this  prodigy  that  found 
their  way  across  the  Atlantic,  and  encouraged 
by  the  noticeable  success  which  he  himself 
had  attained  in  recitation,  declamation,  and 
in  small  plays  given  at  the  school,  young 
Payne  was  seized  with  the  desire  to  emulate 
the  career  of  Betty  and  become  the  Young 
Roscius  of  America.     A  distinguished  actor 

*  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  George  Frederick  Cooke.  Wm. 
Dunlap.    New  York.    1813.    Vol.  i.    Pg.  326. 

18 


in  Boston  who  had  seen  Payne  conceived  a 
like  idea  and  broached  the  subject  to  the 
elder  Payne,  offering  to  take  charge  of  his 
son.  We  can  well  imagine  the  effect  of  such 
an  offer.  Never  had  the  father  suspected  the 
desire  that  was  smouldering  in  his  son's 
breast,  unwittingly  kindled  by  the  very  lines 
of  study  which  he  himself  had  so  conscien- 
tiously recommended  and  taught  to  him. 

In  general  alarm,  the  elder  Payne  and  his 
friends  attempted  by  every  known  means  to 
discourage  the  idea  of  the  Stage.  A  theatri- 
cal tendency,  however,  seems  to  have  been 
born  in  Payne,  and  once  aroused  it  was  not 
to  be  put  down.  When  he  was  forbidden  to 
think  of  acting  he  managed  in  some  way  to 
see  most  of  the  principal  players  performing 
in  Boston  and  satisfied  himself  for  the  time 
by  writing  criticisms  which,  on  their  merit, 
were  gladly  accepted  by  the  newspapers. 

In  the  capacity  of  critic,  Payne  at  this 
time  became  acquainted  with  Samuel  Wood- 
worth,  later  distinguished  as  the  author  of 
the  song,  "The  Old  Oaken  Bucket."  Wood- 
worth,  a  boy  of  about  Payne's  age,  was 
engaged  in  learning  the  printer's  trade.  He 
found  time,  however,  to  publish  a  little  paper 

19 


of  his  own  called  The  Fly,  and  in  this  ven- 
ture Payne  became  associated  with  him. 

Payne  was  now  in  his  thirteenth  year.  He 
had  been  successful  in  various  boyish  en- 
terprises, he  was  a  contributor  to  the  papers 
of  the  day,  and  was  already  attracting  more 
than  usual  attention.  His  development  had 
been  rapid.  We  find  him  occupied  by  in- 
terests which  are  at  the  present  day  far  be- 
yond the  well-informed  young  man  of  twenty. 
Interesting,  as  indicative  of  this  early  develop- 
ment, are  portions  of  one  of  the  earliest  of  his 
letters  extant,  written  to  Miss  Maria  Theresa 
Gold,  and  dated  February  i,  1804,  in  which 
he  details,  in  a  most  amusing  manner,  "a 
brief  view  of  the  chit-chat  of  the  day."  ^  — 

"The  most  recent  and  perhaps  one  of  the 
most  calamitous  occurrences  which  have  lately 
taken  place,  is  a  fire  which  has  consumed  the 
whole  property  of  the  editors  of  your  favorite 
little  paper,  the  Magazine,  with  cash,  not 
their  own,  to  the  amount  of  two  thousand 

^  All  quotations  from  letters,  unless  otherwise  noted,  are 
from  the  Payne  Letter  Book,  now  in  the  possession  of  the 
writer,  or  from  original  letters  in  the  library  of  Union  College, 
access  to  which  was  granted  the  writer  by  the  courtesy  of  the 
college  authorities. 

20 


dollars!  They  had  acquired  by  their  labours 
(and  hard  labours  too),  a  handsome  compe- 
tency, and  held  no  humble  place  in  the  Temple 
of  Fortune.  But  at  one  blow,  they  and  their 
families  are  stripped  of  their  resources  and 
embarrassed  with  a  heavy  debt.  Unhappy 
men!  —  Some  of  our  citizens  have  suggested 
a  subscription  for  their  relief.  It  is  probable 
that  in  a  short  time  it  will  render  them  some 
valuable  aid. 

"The  town  has  for  a  few  weeks  past  been 
all  in  a  ferment  respecting  a  proposal  for  en- 
larging it  by  adding  a  part  of  Dorchester,  and 
building  a  connecting  bridge  across  the  river. 
The  curiosity  excited,  as  well  as  the  more 
actuating  sensibilities  of  interest,  at  the  great 
town  meeting  produced  a  scene  which  was 
highly  entertaining  to  those  who  loved  to  see 
the  effect  of  the  ruling  passions.  I  think  it 
came  fairly  to  the  following  description  of 
the  laughter-exciting  McFingal:  — 

Each  listening  ear  was  set  on  torture, 

While  all  were  bellowing  out,  "  To  order^^  — 

And  some,  with  tongue  not  low  or  weak. 

Were  clam'ring  fast  for  leave  to  speak. 

The  Moderator,  with  great  vi'lence, 

The  cushion  thump'd,  with  "Silence-Silence" 

21 


The  constable  to  ev'ry  prater 
Bawl'd  out,  ^^ Pray  hear  the  moderator ^^  — 
Some  call'd  the  vote,  and  some  in  turn 
Were  screaming  high,  ^^ Adjourn-Adjourn^^  — 
Not  chaos  heard  such  jars  and  clashes, 
When  all  the  el'ments  fought  for  places ! 

"But,  to  quit  this  subject,  what  think  you 
of  the  prevailing  taste  for  dress  ?  The  papers 
tell  us  that  Madame  Jerome  Bonaparte,  who 
adds  much  to  the  gaiety  of  the  fashionable 
and  polite  circles  at  Washington,  notwith- 
standing the  inclemency  of  the  season,  is 
drest  so  airily  that  one  may  put  all  her 
clothes  into  a  snuff  box!  !  —  I  should  think  it 
required  a  very  lively  fancy  to  keep  one  warm 
in  such  a  dress  —  but  newspapers  are  apt  to 
exaggerate. 

"The  taste  for  amusement  does  not  lessen 
here.  The  public  places  are  increasing.  I  do 
not  know  that  they  will  become  more  numer- 
ous than  the  churches,  but  I  very  much  fear 
that  they  will  be  more  numerously  attended." 

On  March  24,  1804,  occurred  the  death  of 
William  Osborn,  Payne's  elder  brother,  who 
had  been  the  junior  partner  of  the  firm  of 
Forbes  &  Payne,  a  mercantile  house  in  New 

22 


York.  Here  seemed  a  solution  of  the  problem 
that  was  vexing  the  elder  Payne.  A  mercan- 
tile career  was  decided  upon  as  a  means  of 
turning  in  another  direction  the  energies  and 
thoughts  which  John  Howard  was  directing 
to  the  Stage,  The  decision  was  not  made 
hastily,  and  the  idea  evidently  met  with  much 
opposition  on  the  part  of  young  Payne,  as  not 
until  November  of  the  following  year  were 
the  home  ties  broken  and  he  set  out  for  New 
York  to  learn  the  business  of  his  late  brother 
under  the  direction  of  the  surviving  partner, 
Mr.  Forbes. 

It  is  evident  that  Mr.  Forbes  had  received 
definite  instructions  from  Payne's  father  to 
watch  carefully  for  any  noticeable  inclina- 
tion on  the  part  of  his  son  toward  the  theater, 
and  to  nip  it  in  the  bud.  It  is  also  evident 
that  from  the  very  first  the  means  adopted  by 
Forbes  for  the  accomplishment  of  this  end 
were  so  unsuited  to  the  temperament  of 
Payne  that  instead  of  decreasing  his  interest 
in  the  Stage  they  rather  forced  him  to  turn 
toward  it  for  whatever  interest  and  pleasure 
he  was  to  get  out  of  the  unhappy  position 
in  which  he  found  himself. 

A  letter  of  Payne  written  to  his  father  on 
23 


December  12,  1805,  soon  after  his  establish- 
ment in  New  York  is  of  interest.  Granting 
that  the  first  touches  of  homesickness  coupled 
with  an  extremely  sensitive  nature  magnified 
to  some  degree  the  errors  of  judgment  and 
the  sledge-hammer  tactics  of  Mr.  Forbes,  we 
can  feel  only  sympathy  for  the  boy  in  a  posi- 
tion so  foreign  to  his  tastes  and  desires.  — 

"I  am  now  almost  a  fortnight  without 
advices  of  any  kind  from  Boston,  and  this  has 
served  to  heighten  the  gloom  of  my  present 
situation,  which  I  assure  you  is  even  more 
tedious  than  I  anticipated. 

"Distinct  from  those  sensations  which  ever 
attend  so  entire  a  change  of  situation  as  mine 
has  been,  circumstances  have  occurred  to 
render  it  almost  insupportably  burthensome. 
There  was  something  in  the  manner  and  con- 
duct of  Mr.  Forbes  from  the  first  which  struck 
me  very  forcibly.  I  have,  with  all  my  faults, 
a  heart,  perhaps  too  feeling  for  this  world, 
and  which  may  possibly  betray  me  into  mis- 
conceptions; but  of  this  I  am  certain,  with 
Mr.  Forbes  I  never  can  he  happy, 

"  I  will  relate  some  instances  of  marked  In- 
attention.    When  I  landed  at  Mr.  Forbes's 

24 


from  the  stage,  he  was  not  at  home,  but  when 
he  returned,  he  ran  in,  embraced  Mrs.  Sturgis 
and  was  very  lively  and  appeared  very  happy 
to  see  her  and  her  husband.  After  this,  he 
turned  round  to  me,  and  without  passing  any 
of  the  customary  civilities  said,  'Have  you 
brought  any  letters.?'  with  an  air  of  rough- 
ness. I  remained  there  till  dinner  was  over, 
when  he  (notwithstanding  your  request  and 
mine)  sent  me  to  the  store,  where  I  was  set 
to  writing  and  detained  till  late  night,  very 
laboriously  employed;  which,  added  to  the 
fatigues  of  the  day,  made  me  excessively 
tired.  However,  on  repeating  my  request,  I 
had  from  Monday  morning  to  Wednesday 
for  myself,  which  was  occupied  in  executing 
little  commissions  for  Mrs.  Sturgis,  etc.,  but 
about  six  o'clock  on  Wednesday  Mr.  Forbes 
sent  a  messenger  to  Mrs.  Saltonstall's  to  ask 
how  I  came  to  absent  myself  so  long  from  the 
store,  and  requiring  my  immediate  presence 
there.  I  obeyed  the  summons  and  on  my 
arrival  Mr.  Forbes  said  that  he  had  not  seen 
me  for  a  long  time,  and  asked  where  I  had 
been.  I  gave  him  a  correct  account  and  added 
that  I  had  his  leave  of  absence;  also  that  I 
had   been  unwell    (of  which   I   am   not  yet 

25 


recovered)  and  that  delayed  my  coming.  He 
said  nothing,  but  detained  me  'til  late  in  the 
store.  I  afterwards  was  led  to  suspect  his 
motive,  which  was  that  ^a  young  gentleman^ 
was  advertised  to  make  his  first  appearance 
at  the  theater,  which  he  probably  supposed 
must  be  me! !  I  have  since  been  kept  hard 
at  work,  —  prohibited,  under  the  most  strict 
orders,  every  amusement  and  denied  even  the 
possibility  of  obtaining  the  means  for  indulg- 
ing in  any  sort  of  recreation. 

"This  evening  I  had  a  newspaper  which  I 
purchased  on  account  of  some  things  which 
it  contained  interesting  to  me,  and  Mr. 
Forbes  finding  it  on  a  window  seat  near 
me  — 

*  Whose  paper  is  this?'  said  he  to  Mr.  Chew. 

*  I  believe  it  is  Mr.  Payne's,'  was  the  answer. 
'John's!'  said  he,  —  then  turning  to  me  — 
'John,  how  came  you  by  this  paper?' 

'I  purchased  it,  Sir.' 
'Who  gave  you  money?' 
'It  was  some  that  I  had  of  my  own.' 
'How  came  you  to  purchase  it?' 
'I  was  sensible  of  no  impropriety  in  pur- 
chasing a  newspaper,  Sir,'  said  I,  'and  I  got 
it  on  account  of  an  address  it  contained  of 

26 


the  Misses  Hodgkinson,  which  was  spoken 
at  their  benefit.'  ^  Here  I  touch'd  the  vibrat- 
ing chord  —  the  Theater!  and  I  was  soundly- 
rated  for  it.  That  you  n/iay  be  convinced 
of  its  not  being  an  improper  paper  to  read, 
I  will  inform  you  that  it  was  only  Cole- 
man's very  celebrated  Evening  Post,  or  Daily 
Advertiser. 

"I  assure  you  that  I  wait  with  the  great- 
est impatience  to  hear  from  you,  to  be  ad- 
vised how  to  act.  Now  I  am  truly  wretched ! 
/  had  anticipated  as  much,  but  now  'tis  real- 
ised. I  would,  however,  say  that  it  hurts  me 
to  write,  as  much  as  it  must  you  to  read, 
this  account.  Mr.  Forbes  is  to  others  kind 
and  gentle  —  to  me  inattentive  and  almost 
insolent.  I  am  willing  to  pursue  the  mer- 
cantile profession,  or  any  one  you  may  choose. 
Mr.  I.  Sturgis,  for  instance,  would  be  such 
a  master  as  I  should  prefer,  and  could  I 
occasionally,  for  amusement,  indulge  in  the- 
atrical essays,  'twould  render  a  situation  with 
such  a  man  the  most  desirable  thing  to  me 
on  earth. 

"One  thing  more.     Mr.   Chew,  for  some 

^  Payne  afterwards  reprinted  this  in  the  Mirror.  See 
fac-similes  following  page  164  of  this  volume. 

27 


things  I  had  done  for  him,  made  me  a  pres- 
ent of  a  dollar,  which  Mr.  Forbes  discover- 
ing, reprimanded  him,  saying  he  should  not 
be  so  intimate  with  me.  I  was  very  unwell 
the  other  evening  with  a  sick  headache,  pain 
in  bowels,  &c,  but  Mr.  Forbes  would  not 
allow  me  to  leave  store,  and  when  I  went 
away  late  told  me  that  I  'must  get  well  against 
morning.'  On  Sunday  (being  leisure)  I  have 
requested  Mrs.  Saltonstall  to  give  me  the  rhu- 
barb and  calomel,  which  I  feel  the  need  of." 

Payne's  father  and  brother  had  made  many 
friends  in  New  York,  and  these  friends  were 
not  slow  in  coming  forward  and  bestowing 
"great  attentions"  on  John  Howard.  The 
elder  Payne  had  not  counted  in  vain  upon 
the  assistance  of  these  friends  in  turning  the 
mind  of  his  son  from  his  ideas  of  the  Stage. 
That  their  influence  was  exerted  at  the  very 
start  is  shown  in  a  letter  of  December  20, 
1805,  from  Payne  to  Robert  T.  Paine,  Jr.,^ 
not  more  than  a  month  after  his  arrival.  — 

^  Payne  seems  to  have  had  a  strong  admiration  for 
Robert  Treat  Paine,  Jr.,  and  to  have  carried  on  a  corre- 
spondence with  him  until  the  death  of  the  latter  in  1811. 
Robert  Treat  Paine,  Jr.,  was  at  this  time  thirty-two  years  of 
age;  or  eighteen  years  the  senior  of  John  Howard,  and  it  is 

28 


"My  situation  in  this  city  Is  not  that  which 
a  few  months  since  I  had  contemplated. 
The  prejudices  of  my  friends  against  the 
Stage  have  induced  me  in  deference  to  their 
superior  judgment  to  gaze  no  longer  on  its 
pleasures.  I  may  no  longer  fancy  myself  a 
theatrical  hero  —  enough  that  I  know  the 
honor  of  being  a  Merchants  Apprentice  — 
perhaps  another  Dick!  In  my  humble  opin- 
ion, however,  the  poor  drama  is  unwarrant- 
ably abused.  Like  other  —  indeed,  all  — 
professions,  it  has  its  unworthy  servants;  and 
I  know  not  why  it  should  have,  or  whether  it 
truly  has,  more  disreputable  followers  than 
most  of  the  other  branches  of  civilized  society." 

His  resolution,  however,  seems  to  have 
been  far  from  decisive,  for  but  six  days  later, 
on  December  26,  In  a  long  letter  to  his  father, 
he  writes :  — 

"My  situation  grows  easier.  I  shall  not 
relax  my  endeavors  to  please,  but  I  acknowl- 
edge that  such  unremitted  application  does 

interesting  to  find  Payne  thus  prefacing  the  letter  quoted: 
"From  the  letters  of  one  whose  pen  has  so  often  called 
forth  the  admiration  of  the  world,  I  anticipate  no  little  im- 
provement; and  in  the  friendship  of  one,  whose  friendship 
would  to  any  one  be  an  honor,  I  promise  myself  no  little 
enjoyment." 

29 


not  perfectly  agree  with  my  health,  being 
very  frequently  subject  to  those  turns  of 
dizziness  which  I  had  sometime  ago.  I  attrib- 
ute this,  however,  to  my  not  having  taken 
any  medicine,  as  I  intended;  and  on  account 
of  one  of  these  turns  a  few  days  since  which 
lasted  me  near  ten  minutes  I  have  resolved 
to  treat  myself  to  some  rhubarb  and  calomel 
on  Sunday. 

"Mr.  Forbes  is,  believe  me,  very  distant; 
but  I  find  on  studying  him  that  it  is  his 
natural  disposition.  He  makes  use  of  every 
expedient  to  keep  me  from  the  Theater;  and 
on  every  play  night  makes  it  a  point  regularly 
to  give  me  business  enough  to  last  till  about 
nine  o'clock.^  This,  however,  is  nothing  very 
serious.  I  only  note  it  that  you  may  see  his 
course. 

"You  are  well  acquainted  with  my  pre- 
possession for  the  Stage;  and  you  probably 
know,  my  dear  Father,  that  as  often  as  the 
passion  has  burst  into  a  flame,  so  often  I 
strove  to  suppress  it;  but  though  my  exer- 
tions have  been  partially  successful,  I  cannot 
eradicate  it  entirely.    A  term  of  three  years 

^  In  his  theatrical  criticisms  printed  in  the  Mirror,  Payne 
frequently  said  that  he  arrived  late  at  the  theater. 

30 


has  witnessed  the  fact;  and  after  many 
schemes  for  the  indulgence  of  my  object  and 
after  reflecting  during  the  space  of  a  fortnight 
upon  it,  after  mature  deliberation,  I  have 
pitched  upon  the  following  resolution: 

"In  case  I  get  liberty  from  home  to  appear 
on  the  boards  of  this  city  (say  in  any  case  not 
more  than  once  per  week),  and  so  regulated 
as  not  to  interfere  with  other  concerns,  I  will 
positively  relinquish  all  pretensions  to  follow 
it  professionally,  and  apply  with  all  possible 
diligence  to  my  present  pursuit.  It  is,  I 
assure  you,  the  partial  indulgence  of  this 
desire  in  Boston  that  kept  me  so  long  con- 
tented from  following  it  more  publickly. 

"To  enforce  my  request  I  would  refer  you 
to  many  instances  in  which  such  indulgences 
have  been  suppressed  by  those  opposed  by 
prejudice  against  the  profession,  and  have 
had  a  serious  termination. 

"I  can  get  such  an  engagement  here  as 
would  agree  with  my  plan  and  yield  a  hand- 
some profit,  which  I  should  insist  on  devoting 
to  the  use  of  the  family. 

"I  had  hoped,  but  without  success,  to  con- 
tent me  without  this,  but  I  find  it  after  much 
struggling  absolutely  impossible. 

31 


"Could  you  send  me  a  little  money  to 
purchase  me  a  tooth  brush,  get  my  hair  cut, 
&c,  —  as  from  the  tenor  of  what  has  been 
hinted  by  Mr.  Forbes,  I  find  he  is  not  disposed 
to  give  me  any  pocket  money;  and  this,  you 
observed  to  me,  you  expected  would  be  the 


case." 


In  Boston,  when  Payne  had  been  deprived 
of  his  favorite  amusement  he  had  had  re- 
course to  his  pen;  so.  In  New  York,  when  he 
found  a  like  condition  awaiting  him  he  de- 
cided to  meet  It  as  he  had  in  Boston;  and  on 
December  28,  1805,  anonymously  appeared 
the  first  number  of  a  little  weekly  publica- 
tion, entitled  the  Thespian  Mirror,'^  printed 
for  the  Editor  by  Southwick  and  Hardcastle, 
No.  2  Wall  Street. 

As  noted  in  his  Introduction,  It  was  the 
purpose  of  the  Editor  in  presenting  the  sheet 
to  the  "enlightened  citizens  of  New  York," 
to  exhibit  "a  specimen  in  matter  and  manner 
of  a  work,  which  on  sufficient  encouragement, 
would  be  Issued  in  the  metropolis;  the  work 

^  The  Thespian  Mirror  was  issued  on  Saturday  evenings. 
The  publication  was  of  octavo  size,  and  well  printed  on  good 
paper. 

32 


to  comprehend  a  collection  of  Interesting 
documents  relative  to  the  stage,  and  Its 
performers;  chiefly  Intended  to  promote  the 
interests  of  the  American  drama,  and  to  erad- 
icate false  impressions  respecting  the  nature, 
objects,  design  and  tendency  of  theatrical 


AMUSEMENTS." 


It  had  at  first  been  Payne's  plan  to  issue  a 
literary  paper,  and  without  communicating 
his  plan  he  had  composed  a  prospectus  for  a 
publication  to  be  known  as  the  Pastime,  in- 
tended for  the  perusal  of  youth  only.  After 
some  reflection,  considering  the  existing  num- 
ber of  papers  called  "literary,"  and  believ- 
ing the  habits  of  the  citizens  of  New  York  — 
as  stated  in  No.  XIV  of  the  Thespian  Mir- 
ror'^ "better  calculated  to  encourage  a  work 
more  intimately  connected  with  the  prevail- 
ing thirst  for  pleasure,"  he  had  recourse  to 
his  favorite  topic,  and  struck  the  plan  of  the 
Thespian  Mirror.  He  seems  to  have  secured 
pecuniary  supplies  which  enabled  him  to 
enter  upon  the  work;  the  printers  were  ap- 
plied to;  and  it  was  but  three  days  from  the 
moment  of  the  first   projection   to   that  of 

1  Thespian  Mirror^  Number  XIV.    See  facsimile  in  back  of 
this  volume. 

33 


publication  —  a  period  more  inconsiderable 
when  it  is  remembered  that  the  only  time  at 
his  command  was  before  eight  in  the  morn- 
ing and  after  eight  in  the  evening.  Three 
young  gentlemen,  two  of  them  fellow  clerks 
in  the  store,  were  alone  entrusted  with  the 
secret. 

Following  the  issue  of  the  first  number  a 
few  subscribers  appeared  and  such  compli- 
mentary notice  ^  was  given  to  the  Mirror  by 
the  newspapers  that  Payne  was  encouraged 
to  proceed. 

During  the  week  a  note  appeared  In  the 
Evening  Post  apologizing  for  the  delay  of 
"Criticus"  in  reviewing  the  Thespian  Mirror. 
Several    errors    had    appeared    in    the    first 

*  Letter  to  his  father,  February  lo,  1806:  — 
"I  enclose,  according  to  your  request,  the  other  paper  of 
this  city  in  which  the  remarks  on  the  Mirror  appeared.  These 
were  the  first  ever  published;  being  inserted  a  month  before 
Mr.  Coleman's  appeared.  Paragraphs  have  been  inserted  in 
almost  all  the  papers  of  the  United  States,  —  the  most 
flattering  and  detailed  of  which  were  in  the  Political  Register^ 
edited  by  Mayor  Jackson,  Philadelphia;  —  Port  Folio,  same 
place;  —  Albany  Centinel;  —  Federal  Gazette,  Baltimore;  — 
Balance,  Hudson;  —  Daily  Advertiser,  Philadelphia,  etc.,  etc. 
Had  I  these,  they  should  be  at  once  yours,  but  I  have  only 
had  a  simple  glance  at  them,  when  in  another  person's  posses- 
sion. The  purport  of  the  whole  is  pretty  much  the  same  as  Mr. 
Coleman's,  and  I  assure  you  nothing  has  yet  appeared  which 
is  otherwise  than  complimentary." 

34 


number,  but  had  escaped  the  notice  of  the 
papers.  The  word  "Criticus"  seems  to  have 
struck  terror  to  the  heart  of  the  young 
editor;  —  a  critical  article  on  his  work  was 
promised,  and  he  felt  that  it  would  lay  bare 
all  the  little  errors  of  his  work  and  set  at 
naught  the  so  far  favorable  comments.  In 
fear  he  hurried  to  the  counting  room,  and 
sent  the  following  note  to  Mr.  William  Cole- 
man, the  editor  of  the  Post:  — 

"The  editor  of  the  Thespian  Mirror,  hav- 
ing observed  a  note  in  the  Post  of  this  even- 
ing, promising  some  remarks  on  his  work, 
would  like  the  liberty  of  asking  Mr.  Coleman 
whether  they  are  or  are  not  in  favor  of  the 
publication.'*  He  makes  this  request,  which 
may  appear  singular,  on  account  of  some  in- 
accuracies which  crept  into  the  first  number 
through  entire  accident;  and  which,  though 
by  the  community  they  might  pass  unnoticed, 
would  not  probably  escape  the  attention  of 
the  Criticus.  He  would  further  observe  that 
though  his  extreme  youth,  being  under  the 
age  of  fourteen,  might  in  the  eyes  of  many  be 
considered  sufficient  to  deter  him  from  an 
undertaking  of  such  magnitude,  it  was  com- 

35 


menced  with  a  laudable  design,  and  as  some 
apology  for  its  errors,  was  an  unassisted 
attempt." 

"I  perused  the  note,"  writes  Mr.  Coleman 
in  the  New  York  Evening  Post  of  January  24, 
1805,  "a  second  time  and  it  will  not,  I  think, 
be  considered  strange  or  harsh  that  I  was 
incredulous  to  the  story  of  the  writer's  youth. 
I  turned  to  his  paper,  and  my  credulity  was 
by  no  means  lessened.  It  was  difficult  to  be- 
lieve that  a  boy  of  thirteen  years  of  age  could 
possibly  possess  such  strength  and  maturity 
of  intellect." 

In  spite  of  his  skepticism  Mr.  Coleman's 
curiosity  was  aroused,  and  his  answer  to 
Payne's  note  was  as  follows :  ^  — 

"Mr.  Coleman  is  sorry  to  be  compelled  to 
answer  the  editor  of  the  Thespian  Mirror  in 
a  manner  unpleasant  to  him;  but  he  has  to 
inform  him  that  the  remarks  on  the  Thespian 
Mirror  are  unfavourable;  and  he  will  in 
candor  add  that  Criticus  was  detained,  that 
his  remarks  might  be  still  further  extended 

^  Thespian  Mirror,  Number  XIV. 
36 


and  enforced  by  himself,  and  at  the  same 
time  that  proper  and  approbatory  notice 
might  be  taken  by  him,  in  the  same  article, 
of  the  Theatrical  Censor,  of  Philadelphia,  a 
work  of  unusual  merit. 

"The  note  of  the  editor  of  the  Thespian 
Mirror,  mentioning  the  extreme  youth  of  the 
writer,  must  disarm  him  of  severity;  and  he 
would  be  glad  to  see  the  juvenile  author  at 
his  house,  to  take  tea  with  him  this  evening. 
No.  30,  Hudson  street.  Perhaps  the  visit 
may  not  be  unserviceable  to  this  young 
gentleman  in  his  future  progress." 

Payne  accepted  the  invitation,  but  his 
duties  in  the  counting  room  detained  him 
until  so  late  an  hour  that  when  he  arrived 
Mr.  Coleman  had  gone  out.  Payne  returned 
in  the  morning,  and  this  time  was  more  suc- 
cessful. Of  the  meeting  and  of  his  impres- 
sions Mr.  Coleman  writes  in  the  same  article 
in  the  Post:  — 

"I  conversed  with  him  for  an  hour;  in- 
quired into  his  history  —  the  time  since  he 
came  to  reside  in  this  city  —  he  told  me  he 
was  a  native  of  New  York,  but  was  taken 

37 


when  an  infant  to  Boston  —  and  his  object 
in  setting  on  foot  the  publication  in  ques- 
tion. His  answers  were  such  as  to  dispel  all 
doubts  as  to  any  imposition,  and  I  found 
that  it  required  an  effort  on  my  part  to  keep 
up  the  conversation  in  as  choice  a  style  as 
his  own." 

It  was  Mr.  Coleman's  advice  that  Payne 
give  up  at  once  his  project  of  the  Mirror. 
Besides  the  want  of  time  for  it,  without  tax- 
ing his  hours  of  sleep  at  the  certain  expense 
of  his  health,  it  seemed  objectionable  as 
"encouraging  a  turn  of  thinking  very  in- 
compatible with  mercantile  pursuits  and 
which  could  have  no  other  consequence  than 
to  unfit  him  for  the  prosecution  of  business 
by  rendering  it  an  object  of  perpetual  disgust." 

To  Mr.  Coleman's  advice  —  perhaps  from 
a  certain  sense  of  vanity,  the  result  of  his 
partial  success  —  Payne  turned  a  deaf  ear; 
and  on  his  refusal,  Mr.  Coleman  in  admira- 
tion volunteered  his  services  in  aid  of  the 
undertaking. 

That  the  Mirror  might  become  better 
known  and  appreciated  because  of  the  youth- 
fulness  of  its  editor,  with  Payne's  acquies- 

38 


cence,  Mr.  Coleman  in  the  Evening  Post  of 
January  24,  placed  before  the  public  the  facts 
regarding  its  publication,  and  of  his  meeting 
and  connection  with  the  editor. 

Possibly  fearing  his  family's  censure  and 
disapproval,  Payne  had  kept  them  in  igno- 
rance of  his  literary  venture.  With  the  pub- 
lication of  Mr.  Coleman's  article,  conceal- 
ment was  no  longer  possible,  and  a  few  days 
later  he  writes  to  his  father:  — 

"I  have  fiot  yet  informed  you  that  I  am 
concerned  in  a  little  periodical  publication 
here,  entitled  the  Thespian  Mirror.  I  should 
have  told  you  of  it  at  a  much  earlier  period 
of  my  progress,  —  but  I  waited  to  ascertain 
whether  it  would  meet  with  that  encourage- 
ment which  I  am  happy  to  say  it  has  done. 
The  calculation  made  is  for  500  subscribers 
at  $2\  and  that  number  may  augment;  but 
at  any  rate,  after  deducting  the  expenses 
from  ^1000,  something  will  remain.  That 
*  something,'  which  cannot  prove  inconsider- 
able, will  be  devoted  to  the  purposes  of  the 
family." 

Mr.  Coleman's  fears  had  been  well  founded. 
Payne's  aversion  to  the  counting  house  in- 

39 


creased  in  proportion  to  his  success  and  in- 
terest in  the  literary  field. 

"Bacon  has  somewhere  observed,"  ^  he 
writes  to  his  father,  "choose  for  your  son 
that  employment  which  you  consider  most 
proper,  and  habit  will  render  it  the  most 
agreeable.  Generally  speaking,  the  idea  may 
be  a  very  feasible  one,  but  as  respects  my- 
self, I  doubt  the  propriety  of  its  application. 
The  profession  which  has  been  chosen  for  me 
is  one  whose  constraints  I  can  by  no  means 
tolerate.  My  habits,  my  wishes,  my  inclina- 
tions, are  all  opposed  to  the  mercantile  life. 
In  deference  to  your  judgment  I  never  before 
expressed  my  opinion  of  the  choice  which  it 
has  made.  I  hoped  to  reconcile  myself  to  it 
and  I  made  the  effort.  The  effort  has  been 
made,  and  I  am  now  more  thoroughly  dis- 
gusted at  the  mercantile  life  than  ever." 

Payne  seems  to  have  firmly  believed  that 
he  had  made  a  conscientious  effort  to  follow 
out  his  father's  wishes  toward  fitting  himself 
for  a  mercantile  life,  yet  from  the  day  of  his 
arrival  in  New  York  his  mind  and  interests 

*  Essays  of  Francis  Bacon,  Number  VII.    Payne  is  some- 
what confused  as  to  Bacon's  idea. 

40 


were  elsewhere.  If  he  remained  at  the  count- 
ing house  for  twelve  hours  a  day  and  did  the 
work  allotted  to  him  it  was  only  as  an  autom- 
aton. Aside  from  the  attention  necessarily 
given  to  the  weekly  issues  of  the  Mirror^  he 
further  increased  his  outside  activities  by 
writing  a  play.  The  curiosity  and  wonder 
with  which  Payne  was  regarded  ^  was  suffi- 
cient justification  for  the  production  of  Julia, 
or  the  Wanderer,  A  Comedy  in  Five  Acts,  at 
the  Park  Theater  on  February  7,  1806.    This 

^  A  portion  of  a  communication,  dated  New  York,  Feb- 
ruary 4,  1806,  and  subsequently  inserted  in  the  Philadelphia 
Port-Folio  gives  us  a  clear  picture  of  Payne  at  this  time,  and 
of  the  position  accorded  him  as  the  result  of  his  literary  enter- 
prise,—  "Our  fashionables  are  all  awake  to  the  sudden  ap- 
pearance of  a  youth,  who  may  justly  be  styled  a  '  lustrous 
[sic]  naturae.'  .  .  .  acquaintances  have  become  his  friends, 
and  every  one  is  impatient  to  know  him;  until  the  little 
editor  of  the  Thespian  Mirror  is  almost  the  only  topic  of 
fashionable  table-talk.  This  miraculous  youth,  whose  per- 
sonal acquaintance  I  was  among  the  first  to  be  honored  with, 
possesses  a  person  short  for  one  of  his  age,  yet  well  propor- 
tioned and  graceful;  a  large  blue  eye  of  unusual  sweetness 
and  expression;  and  a  complexion  of  the  most  susceptible 
delicacy.  The  *  toute  [sic]  ensemble  '  of  his  features  is  dis- 
crimination and  intelligence,  added  to  a  vivid  consciousness, 
which  is  a  language  to  his  most  latent  emotions.  His  voice 
is  music  itself.  His  conversation  is  elevated  and  refined,  and 
his  writings,  of  which  the  public  has  yet  seen  but  hasty  and 
imperfect  specimens,  possess  a  freedom  from  affectation,  and 
a  strength  and  maturity  of  character." 

41 


play,  published  the  same  year,  thus  becomes 
the  first  published  separate  writing  of  Payne; 
for  the  Mirror,  while  edited  by  him,  con- 
tained many  contributions  from  friends.^ 

It  may  be  possible  that  Payne,  in  defiance 
of  his  father's  wishes,  intended  making  his 
appearance  on  the  stage  during  the  latter 
part  of  January,  but  was  induced  by  his 
friends  to  give  it  up.  Rumor  had  it  that  the 
editor  of  the  Mirror  was  to  appear  at  the 
Park  Theater  as  Don  Carlos  in  the  Duenna. 
A  large  and  fashionable  audience  awaited 
his  appearance,  only  to  be  disappointed, 
while  the  "Editor"  himself  in  the  audience 
was  enjoying  the  scene.  The  incident,  while 
amusing,  must  have  been  highly  gratifying 
to  Payne.  The  next  issue  of  the  Mirror,  that 
of  February  i,  contained  the  following  note: 

^  Mr.  Harrison  expresses  the  opinion  that  the  poems  con- 
tained in  the  Mirror  while  attributed  to  contributors,  were 
undoubtedly  written  by  the  Editor  himself.  A  letter  of  Payne 
to  his  father,  dated  February  lo,  1806,  shows  Mr.  Harrison 
to  be  incorrect  in  his  surmise.  — 

"You  will  find  in  No.  7,  some  excellent  poetry  by  Clara, 
a  greatly  celebrated  writer  here,  —  her  name,  Mrs.  Rose. 
Lodinus  is  Mr.  Blauvelt,  an  intimate  of  mine.  The  Lorenzo 
acknowledged  in  Notes  to  Readers  and  Correspondents  in 
No.  7,  is,  I  understand,  Cook  Mulligan,  your  old  scholar,  who 
has  repeatedly  called  upon  me." 

42 


"The  Editor  of  the  Mirror  was  not  a  little 
amused  on  hearing  it  whispered  throughout 
the  boxes,  on  this  occasion,  that  he  was  to 
impersonate  Don  Carlos  in  the  Duenna;  and 
his  amusement  was  somewhat  heightened  on 
the  entrance  of  the  expected  novitiate.  ^  A 
pretty  strapping  boy,  however,^  exclaimed  one  — 
^pretty  tall  of  his  age,''  said  another.  The 
Editor  begs  leave  to  inform  those  who  still 
labor  under  this  unfortunate  mistake  —  that 
he  really  was  not  the  Don  Carlos  of  Monday 
Evening! ! !  " 

Mr,  Coleman  had  not  been  slow  to  appre- 
ciate the  wonderful  mind  of  John  Howard 
Payne,  and  the  possibilities  of  its  develop- 
ment. He  had  been  captivated  at  the  first 
meeting,  and  his  interest  thus  aroused,  con- 
tinued to  increase.  It  became  his  particular 
care  to  find  means  for  giving  Payne  a  liberal 
education.  Through  the  medium  of  the  Post, 
Mr.  Coleman  had  made  a  public  appeal  in 
behalf  of  his  young  friend,  hoping  to  interest 
someone  in  the  matter.  The  appeal  was  not 
without  result,  for  Payne  writes  to  his  father 
on  February  lo:  — 

"It  was  mentioned  to  me,  but  not  directly 
from  the  parties  concerned,  that  the  Profes- 

43 


sors  of  Columbia  College  have  had  a  meet- 
ing, in  which  it  has  been  agreed  to  give  me 
my  education  gratis,  excepting  the  expense 
of  books,  which  is  estimated  at  ^35  for  the 
whole  time." 

It  was  the  wish  of  Mr.  Coleman,  as  ex- 
pressed in  a  letter  of  January  21,  1806,  to 
Payne's  father,  that  a  fund  be  established, 
"by  the  liberality  of  a  few  private  gentle- 
men," to  give  Payne  a  college  education  and 
have  him  finish  with  a  law  course;  or  in 
failure  of  this  project,  to  find  him  a  situation 
in  some  lawyer's  office  under  some  gentleman, 
"whose  character,  situation,  connection  and 
professional  celebrity  would  be  security  for 
his  having  every  advantage  both  mental  and 
moral  and  in  whose  family  he  could  reside." 
By  personal  solicitation,  Mr.  Coleman  had 
partially  interested  in  the  establishment  of 
such  a  fund,  "Dr.  Hosack,  Judge  Pendleton, 
Mr.  Wilkins,  and  a  number  of  gentlemen  of 
equal  respectability  and  fortune,"  ^  when  on 
the  twenty-ninth,  he  laid  his  plans  before 
Payne's  father:  — 

'  Payne  to  his  father,    January  31,  1806. 

44 


"  Altho  I  have  not  the  pleasure  of  a  personal 
acquaintance  with  you,  yet  I  am  to  presume 
that  the  subject  of  my  address  will  in  itself 
convey  an  apology  for  the  informality  of  a 
letter  from  an  entire  stranger.  — 

"As  you  probably  will  have  seen  the  Even- 
ing Post  of  Friday  and  Saturday  last  before 
this  reaches  you,  it  renders  it  quite  unneces- 
sary for  me  here  to  express  the  admiration 
and  the  warm  regard  I  feel  for  your  wonder- 
ful son;  as  amiable  in  disposition,  ingenuous 
in  behavior,  correct  in  sentiment  as  wonderful 
in  talents.  I  have  to  lament  the  want  of 
those  means  which  could  justify  me  in  pro- 
posing to  take  him  home  and  give  him  such 
an  education  as  he  is  by  his  rare  capacity 
entitled  to.  My  proportion  of  this  world's 
goods  is  however  as  scanty  as  my  disposition 
is  otherwise.  My  earnest  desire  to  do  some- 
thing for  the  lad  and  to  procure  for  him  a 
better  situation  than  the  drudgery  and  dull- 
ness of  a  counting  house,  with  which  I  found 
him  disgusted  on  my  first  acquaintance,  led 
me  to  look  abroad  for  some  patron  whose 
ability  might  be  equal  to  his  liberality.  Be- 
fore anything  decisive  can  be  attempted, 
however,  I  consider  it  due  to  you.  Sir,  and 

45 


every  way  proper  and  necessary  that  you 
should  be  consulted  and  your  paternal  ap- 
probation obtained." 

Before  sending  the  letter  to  his  father,  Mr. 
Coleman  had  handed  it  to  Payne  for  inspec- 
tion—  a  letter  "which  was  not  only  a  piece 
of  politeness,"  writes  Payne  to  his  father  in 
commenting  upon  it,  "equally  unexpected 
and  undeserved,  but  a  flattering  assurance  of 
disinterested  friendship  which  had  not  once 
entered  my  ideas." 

While  the  proposal  of  Mr.  Coleman  offered 
a  means  of  obtaining  that  education  which 
Payne  had  hoped  for  as  an  end  to  fixing  his 
attention  on  some  vocation  where  he  could 
indulge  his  taste  for  literature  he  did  not  at 
once  signify  his  intention  of  accepting  it. 

"Would  it  not  be  nobler  to  work  for  my 
living  ? "  he  writes  to  his  father.  "Would  there 
not  be  more  satisfaction  in  knowing  that  I  sup- 
ported myself,  and  not  contract  obligations 
to  gentlemen  to  whom  I  am,  as  it  were,  a 
stranger,  —  and  which  in  all  probability  I 
should  never  be  able  to  repay.  To  effect, 
therefore,  this  object  by  my  own  exertions 
would  it  not  be  well  to  continue  the  Mirror, 

46 


which  will  pay  my  board  and  clothing,  leav- 
ing me  $200  clear  of  all  expenses,  which  alone 
might  be  made  useful  to  the  family. 

Board  can  be  had  at  ^3.50  pr. 

wk,  being  pr.  an ^182. 

Other  expenses  could  not  exceed      118.  $300. 
Therefore,  the  proceeds  of  the 

paper,  yielding S^O- 

Would  leave  a  balance  of  .    .    .  $200." 

While  Payne  was  writing  these  rather  ad- 
mirable sentiments  he  was  approached  by  Mr. 
John  E.  Seaman,  "a  merchant  of  the  first 
respectability  in  the  city."  Mr.  Seaman,  well 
known  for  his  philanthropy,  had  been  a 
"very  particular  friend"  of  his  brother  Wil- 
liam, and  because  of  this  friendship  he  was 
led  to  take  more  than  a  passing  interest  in 
the  affairs  of  John  Howard,  and  to  offer  at 
this  juncture  to  "support  him  till  of  age  in 
any  profession  of  respectability  which  he 
might  prefer."  Mr.  Seaman  —  captivated 
by  Payne,  as  were  all  who  came  in  contact 
with  him  —  and  carried  away  by  his  enthusi- 
asm, must  have  painted  a  very  attractive 
picture  in  making  his  proposal.  Certain  it  is 
that  Payne,  perhaps  feeling  that  the  friend- 

47 


ship  between  his  late  brother  and  Mr.  Sea- 
man placed  the  latter  a  little  nearer  to  him 
than  the  others  who  had  volunteered  their 
assistance,  and  conceiving  from  the  circum- 
stance of  this  friendship  that  Mr.  Seaman  had 
a  superior  claim  upon  him,  cast  to  the  winds 
his  ideas  of  self-support,  and  at  once  accepted 
the  proposal,  contingent  only  upon  his  fa- 
ther's consent. 

With  "feelings  struggling  between  con- 
tending emotions  and  wishes,  and  the  melan- 
choly determination"  to  do  what  was  best  for 
all,  even  at  the  expense  of  pride,  the  elder 
Payne  consented  to  accept  the  proffered  aid  of 
Mr.  Seaman. 

Having  obtained  this  consent  Mr.  Seaman 
began  to  lay  his  plans  for  the  future.  We  can 
see  to  what  extent  his  enthusiasm  carried 
him  when  we  find  him  at  once  proposing  to 
adopt  Payne,  subject  to  the  ideas  of  his  father, 
and  to  consider  him  in  all  respects  his  son. 
"Should  he  ever  marry  and  have  children  he 
would  in  his  eventual  provision  for  them  put 
his  adopted  son  on  exactly  the  same  footing 
with  the  rest.  Should  he  never  marry,  then 
he  would  make  him  his  heir." 

Mr.  Coleman  was  delighted  that  aid  had 
48 


been  secured  for  his  young  friend,  yet  in  the 
enthusiasm  of  Mr.  Seaman  and  in  the  arrange- 
ments proposed  for  adoption  he  felt  that 
things  were  moving  too  rapidly  for  safety. 
*' Somehow  I  have  a  sort  of  lurking  disinclina- 
tion about  my  heart  —  whether  it  proceeds 
from  an  excess  of  affection  for  this  sweet  boy 
or  is  the  conclusion  of  my  best  judgment  I 
do  not  exactly  know  —  but  methinks  I  would 
rather  defer  the  period  of  adoption  till  after 
your  son  shall  have  completed  his  studies, 
and  become  ready  to  shape  his  course  in  the 
world  —  then  Mr.  Seaman  will  have  less 
opening  to  complain  of  disappointment  in  his 
ultimate  views,  and  by  that  time  your  son 
and  yourself  will  have  acquired  an  intimate 
knowledge  of  him  not  yet  to  be  expected.  I 
mean  a  knowledge  of  his  temper,  disposition, 
views,  wishes,  &c,  &c,  in  short  everything 
about  him  that  can  be  brought  to  bear  on 
the  happiness  of  one  so  dear  to  you  and  to 
me  and  to  us  all." 

In  compliance  with  the  wish  of  Mr.  Seaman, 
Payne  now  consented  to  abandon  the  publica- 
tion of  the  Mirror.  Two  months  before  when 
Mr.  Coleman  endeavored  to  influence  him  to 

49 


this  end  he  had  been  met  with  a  stubborn  re- 
fusal. When  several  more  numbers  appeared, 
Payne  saw  that  Mr.  Coleman  had  been  right, 
and  his  ready  acquiescence  In  the  wish  of  Mr. 
Seaman  was  perhaps  Influenced  by  this  realiza- 
tion. Writing  on  October  28,  to  the  editor  of 
the  Troy  Gazette,  Payne  thus  comments  on  his 
work :  — 

"My  Thespian  Mirror  Is  hardly  worth 
your  notice,  but  I  request  your  acceptance 
of  the  volume  accompanying  this.  It  may 
amuse  some  unemployed  moments,  and  per- 
haps the  errors  of  youth  may  be  buried  in 
the  bosom  of  friendship. 

"Born  as  it  was  and  nurtured  in  the  midst 
of  Invoices  and  accounts,  it  partook  not  a 
little  of  the  crudity  of  the  merchant's  Letter 
Book.  The  miscellany  is  as  particolored  as  a 
French  milliner's  holiday  suit,  and  has  seen, 
perhaps,  as  variegated  a  career  as  any  thing 
of  the  same  nature  ever  yet  did  before  It. 

"I  was  not  equal  to  the  task  which  I  under- 
took, and  I  freely  acknowledge  my  weakness." 

The  thirteenth,  and  last,  regular  number 
of  the  Thespian  Mirror  appeared  on  March 

50 


22,  i8o6.  In  the  editor's  address,  announc- 
ing the  discontinuance  of  the  enterprise,  and 
giving  the  plans  of  the  editor  for  the  future, 
the  name  of  John  Howard  Payne  appears  in 
the  publication  for  the  first  time. 

Payne  seems  to  have  caught  Mr.  Seaman's 
enthusiasm,  and  in  proportion  as  he  came  to 
lean  toward  him,  he  drifted  away  from  Mr. 
Coleman.  In  the  above  mentioned  address, 
while  remarking  upon  the  arrangements  made 
for  his  future  education  Payne  tactlessly  makes 
no  mention  of  the  large  part  played  by  Mr. 
Coleman,  attributing  his  good  fortune  solely 
to  Mr.  Seaman.  Mr.  Coleman  noticed  the 
number  containing  the  address,  in  a  subse- 
quent issue  of  the  Post.  Reports  came  to 
Payne  that  Mr.  Coleman  had  ''expressed 
prejudicial  insinuations  against  him,"  and 
had  endeavored  to  injure  him  in  the  opinion 
of  Mr.  Seaman.  The  sparks  of  indignation 
burst  into  a  flame,  and  Payne  hastened  to 
Mr.  Coleman  demanding  an  explanation. 


(( 


I  said  nothing  of  himself  personally," 
writes  Payne,  in  explaining  the  affair  to  his 
father,  "but  assured  him  that  from  a  friend 
I  had  heard  that  some  one  had  uttered  such 

SI 


Insinuations.  I  spoke  of  the  baseness  of  the 
act  —  to  injure  me  with  a  patron,  and  situated 
as  I  was  with  Mr.  Seaman,  —  I  told  him 
that  If  true,  mankind  ought  to  regret  the 
existence  of  such  a  character.  I  then  made 
some  remarks  on  his  showing  a  letter  of  mine 
to  Mr.  Seaman,  to  which  he  only  replied  that 
he  believed  I  saw  things  through  a  very  distorted 
medium.  I  told  him,  *  distorted'  as  the  me- 
dium might  be  I  was  always  awake  to  Injury; 
and  that  I  should  be  glad  to  have  some  advice 
as  to  any  further  procedures  against  a  person 
so  base  and  so  hypocritical.  He  told  me, 
with  the  consciousness  of  guilt  upon  his  face, 
that  as  he  did  not  know  what  I  was  talking 
about  he  could  hold  no  conversation  upon 
the  subject;  and  asked  me  to  come  to  his 
house  as  Mrs.  Coleman  wanted  to  see  me.  I 
bade  him  good  morning  and  we  parted.  I 
have  casually  met  him  since;  have  called  on 
Mrs.  Coleman,  but  have  had  no  particular 
interviews." 

The  misunderstanding  between  Payne  and 
Mr.  Coleman,  from  whatever  causes  brought 
about,  was  regrettable  In  the  extreme,  and 
in  Payne's  attitude  we  find  the  first  public 

52 


exhibition  of  that  quick  and  fiery  temper 
that  was  later  to  cause  him  so  much  trouble. 

Six  days  previous  to  the  issue  of  the  thir- 
teenth number  of  the  Mirror,  Payne  —  at  the 
instance  of  Mr.  Seaman  —  left  for  Boston  to 
pay  a  visit  to  his  parents  before  taking  up  in 
earnest  the  new  career  before  him. 

In  considering  the  various  attainments  of 
John  Howard  Payne  at  this  period  we  should 
not  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  he  had  not 
reached  his  fifteenth  birthday.  He  had  al- 
ready become  a  person  of  prominence.  At- 
tentions were  showered  upon  him,  the  papers 
were  filled  with  accounts  of  his  accomplish- 
ments, and  he  was  on  terms  of  intimacy  with 
most  of  the  literati  and  persons  of  impor- 
tance in  the  first  social  circles  of  New  York. 

On  February  14,  1806,  Mr.  Seaman  wrote 
to  Payne's  father  that  he  was  "apprehensive 
that  he  might  become  intoxicated  with  the 
flattering  and  continued  attentions  shown 
him,  and  that  he  might  sink  his  love  of  study 
into  the  more  fascinating  but  less  substantial 
charms  of  society."  For  this  reason  he 
feared  to  enter  Payne  in  one  of  the  seminaries 
in  the  city.  Princeton  College  was  therefore 
chosen.     "There,"  said  Mr.  Seaman,  "being 

S3 


free  from  the  seducing  and  baleful  vices  of  a 
large  commercial  city  like  New  York,  he 
could  pursue  his  studies  with  uninterrupted 
ardor." 

Mr.  Seaman  entered  upon  the  plans  for 
Payne's  care  at  college  with  the  same  lavlsh- 
ness  as  characterized  his  other  plans  for  his 
future.  Payne  was  to  have  a  horse  always 
at  his  command,  and  doubtless  many  other 
luxuries  were  suggested  in  the  enthusiasm  of 
the  moment. 

While  Payne  was  in  Boston,  Mr.  Seaman 
had  an  opportunity  to  review  his  plans  dis- 
passionately. The  Princeton  idea  was  at 
once  seen  to  be  impracticable.  Princeton 
while  free  from  certain  "seducing  charms 
and  baleful  vices,"  was  not  far  enough  away 
from  them,  and  Mr.  Seaman  began  to  fear 
that  Payne  would  be  too  often  in  town;  for 
with  the  horse  he  had  been  promised,  he 
could  easily  make  the  trip,  and  would  prob- 
ably take  occasion  to  do  so  whenever  it  was 
his  desire. 

As  the  college  best  fitted  to  fulfill  all  the 
requirements  of  the  case  Union  College  at 
Schenectady,  New  York,  then  under  the 
direction   of   the   well-known   educator   Dr 

54 


EHphalet  Nott  ^  was  definitely  chosen  and 
on  Payne's  return  to  New  York  about  the 
middle  of  April  the  change  of  plan  was  made 
known  to  him.  Payne  was  keenly  disap- 
pointed, and  not  until  the  middle  of  June 
was  all  in  readiness  for  his  journey  to 
Schenectady. 

"The  matter  has  been  delayed  from  my 
own  opposition,"  he  writes  to  his  father  on 
June  3,  "as  it  must  be  allowed  that  In  a 
cloistered  solitude  like  that  which  I  am  about 
to  encounter  there  is  nothing  inviting  and 
nothing  pleasing  to  a  mind  which  has  here- 
tofore been  rather  withdrawn  than  otherwise 
from  regular  duties  and  regular  study.  This 
premised  self-denial  and  humiliation  Is  an- 
ticipated as  unavoidable.  I  know  that  Mr. 
Nott  is  so  well  aware  of  my  situation  and 
circumstances  that  every  endeavor  In  his 
power  will  be  exerted  to  situate  me  pleas- 
antly and  agreeably.  It  must  at  the  same 
time  be  recollected  that  the  consent  on  my 
part  to  going  was  entirely  —  as  I  told  that 

^  Dr.  Nott  was  now  at  the  age  of  thirty-three.  Two  years 
before  this  time  he  had  assumed  the  Presidency  of  Union 
College,  a  then  struggling  institution.  His  career  is  perhaps 
without  a  parallel  in  the  history  of  American  education. 

55 


gentleman  —  in  deference  to  Mr.  Seaman's 
judgment;  that  for  myself  I  looked  upon  it 
as  I  should  to  enter  the  State's  Prison,  for 
the  same  term." 

Three  days  later  he  wrote,  —  "I  assure 
you  that  the  remarks  which  you  advance 
relative  to  resolution  of  mind  and  a  power  of 
rendering  ourselves  happy  in  any  situation 
of  life  had  no  trifling  effect  in  producing  my 
acceptance  of  the  Schenectady  Plan." 

It  had  been  Payne's  purpose,  after  the 
distribution  of  the  last  number  of  the  Thes- 
pian Mirror,  to  dismiss  the  work,  in  accord- 
ance with  his  promise  to  Mr.  Seaman,  "with 
some  editorial  remarks,  an  index  and  a  title- 
page  for  the  use  of  such  subscribers  as  con- 
sidered the  numbers  worthy  of  preservation; 
but  in  the  execution  of  the  plan,  finding  that 
the  design  exceeded  its  limits,"  he  issued  on 
May  31,  as  a  supplement,  with  Mr.  Seaman's 
approval  —  in  fact  Mr.  Seaman  offered  to 
defray  all  expenses  —  the  now  extremely 
rare  fourteenth^  number,  in  which  he  took 

^  There  is  nothing  to  indicate  that  any  of  the  biographers 
of  Payne  have  had  access  to  the  "Fourteenth  Number." 
Mr.  Harrison  evidently  knew  of  its  existence;  but  he  shows 
conclusively  that  he  had  never  seen  the  issue,  when  he 
states:  —  "The  Mirror  ran  through  fourteen  numbers,  the 

56 


occasion  to  place  before  his  patrons  the  com- 
plete history  of  the  publication,  with  thanks 
for  their  patronage,  regrets  that  such  pat- 
ronage was  not  more  deserved,  and  apologies 
for  the  "crude,  imperfect  and  unfinished 
state"  in  which  the  Mirror  was  necessarily 
given  to  the  public. 

With  his  aifairs  satisfactorily  adjusted  and 
the  final  adieus  said,  Payne  set  sail  from  New 
York  early  in  June  on  the  sloop  Swan,  arriv- 
ing at  Albany  after  a  most  delightful  voyage 
which  he  thus  describes  to  his  father,  writing 
from  there  on  the  eighteenth :  — 

"I  have  been  in  this  place  since  Monday 
evening;  but,  engaged  by  numerous  avoca- 
tions with  my  new-made  friends,  have  scarcely 
found  time  to  put  pen  to  paper  since  my 
arrival.  With  the  passage  and  with  the  pas- 
sengers to  this  place  I  was  greatly  delighted; 
but  Albany  itself  is  a  poor,  shabby  looking 
little  clump  of  houses.  The  jaunt  itself  is 
one  of  the  most  pleasant  on  the  continent; 
or  at  least  within  the  compass  of  my  travels. 
The  passage  thro'  the  highlands  is  sublime 
and  original.     I  never  found  any  thing  more 

last  appearing  March  22,  1806."  (This  was  the  date  of  issue 
of  the  Thirteenth  Number.) 

57 


striking;  nor  can  more  magnificent  prospect 
be  described.  The  winds  are  so  very  pre- 
carious that  no  calculation  can  be  made  on 
the  passage;  and  we  stopped  on  our  course 
no  less  than  eight  times.  This  gave  a  suffi- 
ciency of  time  to  view  the  mountainous 
country  and  we  had  many  exquisite  walks 
thro'  it.  I  found  Colonel  Willet^  and  Lady 
very  agreeable  company.  We  had  two  female 
passengers  equally  pleasing;  and  Brown,^ 
the  celebrated  American  author,  afforded  me 
the  greatest  satisfaction.  The  rest  of  the 
party  are  going  to  Montreal  tomorrow,  via 
Ballstown;  and  I  am  to  accompany  them. 
We  shall  spend  a  day  or  two  in  this  place,  a 
day  or  two  in  Ballstown,  and  then  return  to 
Schenectady  where  I  shall  go  to  Dr.  Nott. 
This  college  is  universally  railed  at  here  for 
the  excessive  and  unexampled  rigidity  of  its 
governors.  Bad  as  it  may  be  I  cannot  now 
be  disappointed." 

Despite  the  fact  that  Payne  was  now  on 
the  way  to  college,  with  Mr.  Seaman  paying 

^  Colonel  Marinus  Willett,  The  Hero  of  Fort  Stanwix. 
^  Charles  Brockden  Brown,  the  American  Novelist,  born 
1771,  died   1810. 

58 


the  expenses,  and  that  he  had  already  lost 
much  valuable  time,  he  set  out  as  he  had 
planned  with  the  party  for  Montreal. 

A  remarkable  character  study  is  afforded 
by  Payne's  description  of  the  trip  in  a  letter 
written  on  June  27  to  his  friend  James  Lewis, 
soon  after  his  return  to  Albany.  — 

"Referring  you  to  a  letter  which  I  write 
Mr.  Seaman  for  the  particulars  of  my  most 
adventurous  tour  I  entreat  that  you  will  have 
the  goodness  to  pay  the  bearer  six  dollars  on 
my  account.  After  I  arrived  here  I  deter- 
mined to  go  to  Montreal,  and  set  away  with 
a  party  from  the  packet,  consisting  of  three 
ladies  and  two  gentlemen,  gentlemen  self 
exclusive.  I  had  but  fifteen  dollars  and  was 
disappointed  in  all  ideas  and  arrangements 
for  accommodation.  Added  to  this,  a  dispute 
with  a  fellow  passenger  resolved  me  to  stop 
at  Glen's  Falls,  and  I  would  go  no  further. 
I  had  then  but  thirty-three  cents  in  my 
pocket,  six  of  which  I  there  expended  on  pen, 
ink  and  paper,  on  which  I  wrote  some  verses 
and  journalised  ^  my  tour.    I  made  an  equiv- 

^  This  is  undoubtedly  the  Journal  of  which  Theo.  S.  Fay- 
thus  writes  in  the  Mirror:  —  "This  Journal  was  long  in  the 

59 


ocal  arrangement  with  the  stageman  to  re- 
turn for  me;  but  after  passing  some  most 
exquisitely  lonesome  and  miserable  hours  at 
Glen's  Falls,  I  determined  to  endeavor  to 
walk  to  Lake  Champlain,  twenty-six  miles. 
Without  saying  a  word  to  anyone  of  my  plan 
I  learnt  the  route  and  set  away  at  ten  minutes 
past  eight  on  my  journey.  Chance  led  me 
three  miles  from  my  way;  but  after  getting 
lodging  at  sixpence,  I  pursued  my  proper 
route  in  the  morning  at  four,  and  arrived  at 
the  end  of  the  march  at  twelve  o'clock,  my 
only  nourishment  on  the  road  being  milk 
punch;  and  after  ordering  my  last  glass  my 

possession  of  the  late  Joseph  D.  Fay.  It  is  now,  we  believe, 
irrecoverably  lost,  with  the  exception  of  the  following  lines, 
composed  while  looking  upon  the  North  River  by  moonlight : " 

On  the  deck  of  the  slow-sailing  vessel,  alone, 
As  I  silently  sat,  all  was  mute  as  the  grave; 

It  was  night,  and  the  moon  mildly  beautiful  shone, 
Lighting  up  with  her  soft  smile  the  quivering  wave. 

So  bewitchingly  gentle  and  pure  was  its  beam, 
In  tenderness  watching  o'er  nature's  repose. 

That  I  liken'd  its  ray  to  Christianity's  gleam. 

When  it  mellows  and  soothes  without  chasing  our  woes. 

And  I  felt  such  an  exquisite  wildness  of  sorrow. 

While  entranced  by  the  tremulous  glow  of  the  deep, 

That  I  long'd  to  prevent  the  intrusion  of  morrow, 
And  stay  there  for  ever  to  wonder  and  weep. 
60 


funds  were  exhausted,  —  I  was  compelled  to 
lay  open  my  situation,  —  and  the  landlord 
very  kindly  excused  me  the  sixpence.  The 
party  hardly  believed  their  eyes  when  they 
saw  me  trudging  along.  I  had  to  borrow 
money  of  the  driver  to  pay  my  expenses  back, 
and  when  I  returned  to  Albany  I  had  to 
borrow  of  my  landlord  to  pay  the  driver, 
eleven  dollars.  I  found  at  Skeensbro',  (Lake 
Champlain)  the  black  who  brings  this.  He 
was  precisely  in  my  own  situation  —  penny- 
less.  I  pitied  him,  from  my  own  sufferings, 
and  of  course  I  divided  my  pittance  with 
him,  and  he  has  boarded  at  my  charge  while 
here.  I  paid  his  passage  and  have  engaged 
to  pay  his  expenses  to  New  York,  where  he 
may  find  a  place.  That  is  the  cause  of  my 
order,  and  you  will  perceive  that  my  de- 
mands on  Mr.  Seaman  are  so  great  as  to 
compel  me  to  furnish  other  resources  at  this 
moment.  I  am  now  here  without  a  half- 
penny in  my  long  purse.  I  must  be  relieved 
somehow  or  other;  and  a  little  will  not 
suffice.  If  I  walk  to  Montreal  I  mean  to  go, 
if  only  to  convince  my  opponent  that  I  am 
superior  to  being  deterred  by  spleen  and 
insolence;    and  that  I  have  enough  of  per- 

6i 


severence  to  struggle  against  the  current  of 
ill  nature  and  nonsense. 

"To  borrow  our  old  phrase,  —  *are  you 
flush?'  I  shall  expect  an  immediate  answer. 
If  I  go  to  Montreal,  I  shall  take  Niagara  in 
the  route.  Dr.  Nott  knows  my  arrangement, 
but  I  know  him  not. 

"It  is  impossible  to  board  genteelly  here 
under  eight  dollars  a  week.  I  pay  that,  tho 
to  tell  the  plain  truth  I  have  not  money 
enough  to  get  a  piece  of  linen  washed,  if  I 
was  called  on  for  the  cash." 

Before  undertaking  the  Montreal  trip, 
Payne  had  written  to  Mr.  Seaman  to  obtain 
his  consent.  The  letter,  as  he  wrote  his 
father  on  August  2,  "was  couched  in  such 
terms  as  he  conceived  to  be  undeniable,  and 
urged  in  a  manner  which  was,  in  his  opinion, 
fully  satisfactory.  He  had  waited  unavail- 
ingly  for  the  receipt  of  letters,  and  being  at  a 
stand,  resolved,  expecting  that  the  college 
vacation  took  place  in  July,  to  take  advan- 
tage of  such  an  opportunity  as  might  not 
again  oifer." 

Payne  was  influenced  and  advised  in  his 
decision  by   Colonel  Willett,   who   had   sug- 

62 


gested  the  trip;  and  he  did  not  "of  himself 
obstinately  resolve  to  go  to  Montreal,"  as 
was  almost  immediately  reported  ^  to  Mr. 
Seaman  by  one  of  the  party  (Atllar  by  name) 
who  on  some  account  disaffected  towards 
Payne,  on  his  return  to  New  York  represented 
Payne's  conduct  on  the  trip  "as  altogether 
blameable,"  and  with  his  stories  succeeded 
in  incensing  Mr.  Seaman. 

Circumstances  similar  to  this  constantly 
occurring  throughout  his  career,  brought  on 
from  jealousy  or  like  causes,  have  not  been 
without  their  eifect  in  giving  to  the  general 
public  a  wrong  idea  of  John  Howard  Payne, 
especially  so  as  Payne  seems  to  have  made  no 
eiforts  to  disprove  the  assertions. ^ 

A  letter  from  Mr.  Seaman  awaited  Payne 
on  his  return  to  Albany.  Now  freed  from  the 
glamour  and  provoked  at  the  course  pursued 
by  his  young  ward,  Mr.  Seaman  wrote,  "de- 
claring, among  other  unqualified  expressions, 

*  L.  T.  P.  to  Mr.  Seamans.  August  i6,  1806.  Original 
letter  in  the  library  of  Union  College. 

2  "The  world  naust  have  something  to  talk  about,  and 
they  may  as  well  talk  of  me  as  any  one  else.  Their  gabble 
does  not  affect  me,  and  it  would  be  foolish  to  be  affected  by 
it."  From  Payne's  letter  of  September  23 ,  1 806,  to  his  father. 
The  original  is  in  the  library  of  Union  College. 

63 


that  he  would  be  'trifled  with  and  imposed 
on  no  longer.' " 

Payne  was  sensible  of  having  done  no 
wrong,  and  Mr.  Seaman's  letter  brought 
forth  a  reply  in  which  he  gave  vent  to  the 
warmth  of  his  feelings.  Other  letters  equally 
impassioned  followed  on  both  sides.  The 
refusal  of  Mr.  Seaman  to  send  funds  detained 
Payne  in  Albany,  where  he  continued  to  incur 
debts,  keeping  his  father  in  ignorance  of  his 
affairs. 

How  full  of  good  advice  and  encourage- 
ment are  the  letters  of  the  father  to  the  son, 
who  was  supposedly  now  entered  upon  the 
career  his  benefactor  had  chosen  for  him! 

"In  going  from  New  York  you  relinquish  a 
little  of  the  mere  flutter  of  society  in  which 
a  boy  of  your  standing  ought  never  to  be 
favored  —  it  makes  but  to  inflate  his  Vanity, 
but  never  satisfies  his  reason.  Here  (suppos- 
ing you  at  Skenectady)  you  have  the  sources 
of  sterling  knowledge  within  your  reach,  fruits 
of  the  best  exercised  reason  and  treasure  of  a 
solid  truth.  It  is  needless  to  paint  the  scene. 
The  plain  fact  is  that  by  a  little  patient  at- 
tention to  the  objects  proposed  to  you  there 
you  may  become  a  good  classical  scholar.   An 

64 


eloquent  rhetorician  you  can  scarcely  fail  to 
be.  You  will  obtain  the  honors  of  the  college, 
which  is  a  great  thing  in  public  estimation; 
the  approbation  of  good  men  which  is  greater, 
and  a  patronage  exceeding  anything  of  the 
kind  that  your  parents  and  family  could  have 
contemplated  or  thought  of. 

"The  reverse,  my  dear  son,  would  form  a 
picture  which  from  its  dismal  appearance  I 
forbear  to  draw.  Most  devoutly  I  deprecate 
your  ever  being  presented  in  such  a  group 
of  miseries." 

A  truce  between  Mr.  Seaman  and  Payne 
was  finally  established  and  on  the  eighteenth 
of  July  Payne  left  Albany  to  take  up  his  work 
at  college. 

Payne  was  penitent,  and  Mr.  Seaman  was 
appeased;  but  when  he  found  that  he  was 
charged  with  the  expenses  incurred  by  Payne 
during  his  delay  at  Albany  the  flame  again 
burst  forth  and  in  a  severe  and  somewhat 
sarcastic  letter  to  Dr.  Nott,  July  29,  1806, 
he  thus  outlines  his  limitations  and  wishes 
for  the  future:  — 

"Master  John  H.  Payne  left  this  the  begin- 
ning of  June  for  the  seminary  at  Schenectady, 

65 


but  he  has  till  lately  forgotten  the  place  of  his 
destination.  His  vanity  has  led  him  to  make 
himself  conspicuous  everywhere  but  at  col- 
lege. I,  however,  rec'd  a  letter  from  him  of 
the  19th  inst.,  dated  Schenectady,  so  that  it 
seems  his  paroxism  is  finished;  but  I  am 
apprehensive  that  it  will  return  notwithstand- 
ing what  he  says  he  has  suffered  while  under 
the  operation.  I  gave  him  a  letter  for  you 
which  I  presume  he  has  delivered.  I  therein 
requested  you  to  furnish  him  with  all  neces- 
saries, and  to  allow  him  twenty  shillings  — 
per  month  for  pocket  money.  Since  he  left 
New  York  he  has  squandered  away  upwards 
of  $90,  which  I  am  under  no  obligation  to  pay, 
but  if  he  remains  at  college  for  six  months  I 
will  pay  the  same,  although  it  is  a  Tavern 
debt.  When  he  left  this  I  gave  him  twenty 
dollars  when  ten  would  have  been  sufficient 
to  carry  him  to  the  place  to  which  he  was 
sent.  Not  to  expose  myself  to  any  further 
vexations  on  this  head,  I  have  proposed  a 
different  arrangement  to  his  father  Mr.  Wm. 
Payne  of  Boston,  into  whose  hands  I  shall 
place  ^250  per  annum  for  the  purpose  of  giv- 
ing his  son  John  a  liberal  education.  This 
allowance  is  to  cease  the  moment  he  quits 

66 


Union  College.  I  have  chosen  this  place,  as 
well  from  the  high  opinion  I  have  of  the 
eminent  qualifications  of  its  President  as 
from  its  detached  situation,  which  in  the 
case  of  this  youth  is  of  the  highest  impor- 
tance. Nothing  but  the  discipline  of  a  classi- 
cal education  can  regulate  the  almost  frantic 
sallies  to  which  Master  Payne's  mind  is  ex- 
posed from  its  great  activity  which  has  been 
continually  heightened  by  the  same  in  the 
hands  of  John's  father.  You  will  hereafter 
consider  him  as  the  medium  through  which 
you  are  to  be  paid  for  any  expenses  you  may 
incur  on  acc't  of  his  son's  education,  clothes, 
Sec,  while  under  your  care.  He  will  no  doubt 
write  immediately  on  the  subject  and  give 
you  generally  his  ideas  of  the  boy. 

*'  If,  Sir,  you  can  reclaim  this  youth  and 
by  any  means  whatever  supplant  a  love  of 
pleasure  by  a  love  of  study  you  will  confer  a 
very  high  obligation  on  his  friends  and  render 
an  essential  service  to  his  country;  for  talents 
like  his  if  properly  directed  will  do  much  good 
in  arresting  the  dreadful  evils  which  await  us 
from  the  encreasing  and  desolating  effects  of 
democracy." 


67 


I  have  said  that  Payne  was  penitent.  In 
the  crisis  with  Mr.  Seaman  he  was  not  guided 
alone  by  his  own  feelings.  Both  Dr.  Nott 
and  Mr.  Sedgwick,  of  Albany,  who  with  his 
brother  had  already  become  fast  friends  of 
the  youth,  gave  him  their  advice,  as  shown 
by  a  letter  to  his  father  under  date  of  August 
2.  Both  agreed  that  Mr.  Seaman  had  "acted 
wrong,  from  right  motives; "  and  that  Payne 
had  been  guilty  of  indiscretions  which  Mr. 
Seaman  had  treated  too  harshly  after  every 
concession  from  Payne  that  the  nature  of  the 
case  required. 

"That  I  am  blest  with  a  disposition  to 
retrieve  my  errors  is  undeniable,"  says  Payne 
in  the  same  letter,  which  was  written  in 
the  calm  that  succeeded  the  storm.  "Most 
sincerely  do  I  regret  their  effects;  and  most 
sincerely  does  my  heart  bleed  for  their  com- 
mission. It  bleeds  because  it  has  afflicted  my 
dearest  friends,  —  it  bleeds  because  it  has 
led  one  to  whom  I  was  bound  in  indissoluble 
ties  of  gratitude  to  a  hastiness  of  conduct 
which  will  forever  cool,  if  it  does  not  freeze, 
the  warmth  of  aifection  which  once  subsisted 
between  us." 

68 


During  his  stay  at  Albany,  Payne  had  met 
and  captivated  many  of  the  leading  citizens 
including  Robert  and  Theodore  Sedgwick. 
The  facts  regarding  his  quarrel  with  Mr.  Sea- 
man were  known  to  many  of  them,  and  when 
at  the  advice  of  all  Payne  left  for  college 
Mayor  Van  Rensselaer  furnished  him  with 
ninety  dollars  to  pay  his  debts,  giving  him  to 
understand  that  it  came  from  Mr.  Seaman. 
Mr.  Seaman,  who  was  kept  in  ignorance  of 
the  affair,  supposed  for  sometime  after  that 
he  was  still  charged  with  the  debts  contracted. 

On  July  19  we  find  Payne  in  Schenectady 
with  admirable  resolutions  formed,  ready 
conscientiously  to  take  up  his  studies  on  the 
morrow.  On  that  day  he  wrote  his  father  as 
follows :  — 

"Instead  of  being  placed  in  the  grammar 
school,  I  am  to  become  the  companion  of  Dr. 
Nott;  to  reside  in  the  room  with  him;  and 
to  study  privately  under  his  particular  care 
and  direction  until  prepared  to  enter  the 
college.  I  confess  that  imagination  does  not 
represent  the  pleasure  of  my  new  occupation 
in  the  most  glowing  colors.  I  cannot  look 
upon  them  with  impassioned  eyes;    I  cannot 

69 


taste  them  with  a  perfect  relish;  but  they 
will  probably  become  natural,  and  habit  will 
render  them  agreeable.  Tomorrow  is  fixed 
for  my  debut.  I  have  resolved,  by  endeavor- 
ing to  insinuate  myself  into  their  good  graces, 
to  make  the  affections  of  my  fellow  students 
and  of  my  tutors  my  first  object.  I  know  how 
unpleasant  will  be  my  onset.  I  feel  it  in  all  its 
horrors;   and  I  tremble  to  anticipate." 

Dr.  Nott  had  been  opposed  to  having 
Payne  placed  at  Union.  To  undertake  the 
moulding  and  instruction  of  so  unusual  a 
youth  seemed  too  gigantic  a  task  for  even  this 
wonderful  man;  but  when  the  matter  was 
once  decided,  nothing  that  it  was  in  his  power 
to  prevent  was  to  block  success. 

Having  piloted  Payne  through  the  first 
two  weeks  of  his  new  career,  endeavoring 
always  —  and  with  wonderful  success  —  to 
gain  the  confidence  and  win  the  affection  of 
his  charge,  Dr.  Nott  turned  his  attention 
toward  making  peace  with  Mr.  Seaman. 

Payne  wrote  to  his  father  on  August  2,  — 

"Dr.  Nott,  an  honor  to  human  nature,  has 
offered,  kindly  offered  to  take  the  business 

70 


into  his  hands;  and,  if  his  mediation  prove 
ineffectual  he  says  that  my  situation  shall 
not  suffer  from  the  desertion  of  Mr.  Seaman, 
if  I  can  be  happy  in  Schenectady.  I  can  be 
happy  there.  With  Dr.  Nott  I  can  be  happy 
anywhere.''^ 

With  what  success  and  to  what  extremes 
Dr.  Nott  went  to  prevent  Payne's  coming  in 
contact  with  any  other  influence  may  be 
seen  when  Payne  adds:  — 

"I  am  his  companion  at  college,  his  ^chum^ 
as  they  call  it,  and  even  share  his  bed.  These 
distinctions  are  most  gratifying.  I  have  the 
rank  of  a  student,  but  am  secluded  from  the 
other  scholars,  under  the  private  and  particu- 
lar care  of  Dr.  Nott." 

No  sooner  were  things  running  smoothly 
than  it  became  time  for  the  summer  vaca- 
tion. Mr.  Seaman  and  Payne's  father  de- 
sired that  Payne  should  spend  the  vacation 
in  Boston,  but  Dr.  Nott  took  a  decided 
stand  against  such  a  plan. 

Writing  Payne's  father  on  August  2,  he 
says:  — 

"Since  his  arrival,  his  conduct  has  been 
such,  and  such  is  the  apparent  influence  I 

71 


have  over  him,  that  I  feel  great  confidence  in 
being  able  to  rescue  him  from  that  ruin  to 
which  he  is  exposed.  But  so  different  is  the 
treatment  he  receives  here  from  what  he 
receives  in  Albany,  New  York  and  probably 
Boston,  that  I  should  not  like  to  run  the 
hazard  of  his  spending  even  a  vacation  in 
any  of  those  places  at  present." 

Dr.  Nott  had  his  way,  and  it  was  decided 
that  Payne  should  be  with  him  all  the  vaca- 
tion; and  wherever  he  went  Payne  should  go 
also.  Furthermore,  his  intervention  with  Mr. 
Seaman  was  rewarded  by  forgiveness,  with 
promises  of  future  aid  and  expressions  of 
good  will.  — 

"To  you.  Sir,"  writes  Mr.  Seaman  to  Dr. 
Nott,  on  August  7,  "we  all  look  with  anxious 
solicitude,  as  the  only  person  who  can  save 
this  youth  from  destruction,  and  by  elevat- 
ing his  views  to  more  noble  and  interesting 
objects  than  have  yet  appeared  to  engage 
his  attention,  make  him  at  once  the  solace 
and  delight  of  his  friends  as  well  as  highly 
ornamental  and  useful  to  society.  I  have 
definitely  fixed  the  duration  of  my  patronage 

72 


to  his  stay  at  Union  College.  This  is  my  last 
and  only  hope,  and  the  moment  he  quits  it 
I  owe  it  to  myself  to  give  him  up  wholly  to 
his  father's  care.  He  now  knows  what  awaits 
him  should  he  have  the  folly  to  abandon  his 
present  situation,  set  himself  once  more  afloat 
and  become  the  sport  of  circumstances.  After 
the  trying  lessons  he  has  lately  received,  his 
resolution  I  trust  is  firmly  fixed. 

"Give  my  love  to  John;  tell  him  his  sis- 
ter is  well  and  cordially  participates  my  joy 
in  his  returning  sense  of  propriety.  I  now 
sincerely  forgive  his  late  improper  conduct, 
and  if  he  continues  steadfast  in  his  present 
laudable  resolution  of  pursuing  his  studies 
with  unwearied  diligence  my  affection  for 
him  will  soon  again  be  what  it  once  was." 

The  summer  vacation  of  fifteen  weeks 
must,  as  a  whole,  have  passed  pleasantly  for 
Payne.  For  the  first  ten  days,  being  afflicted 
with  one  of  the  severe  spells  of  illness  to  which 
he  was  often  subject,  Payne  remained  at 
Schenectady.  The  gloom  of  the  place,  en- 
hanced by  the  fact  that  now  there  were  at 
the  College  "but  two  or  three  black  servants 
and    some   workmen,"    as    he   writes    to    his 

73 


father,  seemed  sufficient  excuse  for  his  spend- 
ing a  few  days  at  Ballstown  as  soon  as  he  was 
able  to  be  about. 

Ballstown  —  Ballston  Spa,  as  we  now  know 
it  —  was  at  this  time  at  the  height  of  its  pop- 
ularity as  a  watering  place. ^  Fashionable 
people  from  many  places  made  it  their  resort. 
Payne  writes  his  father  on  August  12  that 
there  are  "now  898  names  recorded  on  the 
register  at  the  Springs,  and  it  is  not  easy  to 
procure  comfortable  accommodations  with- 
out being  previously  provided  for." 

It  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Payne 
found  Ballstown  an  attractive  place,  and 
that  he  took  occasion  several  times  during 
the  vacation  to  visit  his  friends  there,  either 
alone  or  in  company  with  his  "chum,"  Dr. 
Nott.  With  Dr.  Nott,  Payne  also  spent  much 
time  in  Albany,  and  "at  their  request  visited 
Governor  Lewis,  the  Secretary  of  State,  and 
the  Livingston  Manor."  The  only  cloud  in  the 
bright  sky  of  the  summer  seems  to  have  been 
the  disappointment  caused  by  the  abandon- 
ment of  a  visit  which  his  parents  had  planned 

^  The  famous  Sans  Souci  Hotel  had  been  completed  in 
1804,  and  no  expense  was  spared  to  make  Ballston,  —  what 
for  many  years  afterward  it  was,  —  the  largest  and  most 
charming  resort  in  the  States. 

74 


on  paying  him,  and  which  was  given  up  be- 
cause of  his  mother's  failing  health. 

Gossip  was  again  busy,  and  reports  came 
to  the  elder  Payne  that  his  son  had  been 
rather  too  prominent  in  various  visits  to  the 
Springs.  Explanations  were  demanded  and 
much  good  advice  was  given;  which,  although 
perhaps  not  amiss,  exhibits  more  of  a  tendency 
toward  severity  and  lack  of  trust  than  the 
evidence  shows  the  case  to  have  warranted. 
That  Payne  felt  this  deeply  is  shown  by  his 
reply  to  his  father  on  September  23 :  — 

"From  your  remarks  as  to  the  influence  of 
my  rational  and  moral  reflections  you  seem 
disposed  to  believe  that  my  heart  retains 
those  sentiments  of  despicable  baseness  which 
it  was  once  cursed  with.  I  hope  that  I  am 
now  superior  to  such  degrading  ideas,  and  I 
did  hope  that  you  believed  so.  No  one  has  a 
deeper  sense  of  the  Importance  of  present 
pursuits  to  future  happiness  than  I  have, 
and  no  one  is  firmer  than  I  am  in  a  resolution 
of  abiding  by  those  Ideas." 

Before  Payne  left  New  York  City  for  col- 
lege, Mr.  Seaman  had  assumed  all  his  debts. 

75 


For  some  reason  he  was  kept  In  Ignorance  of 
sums  he  had  borrowed  to  the  amount  of 
nearly  ^300.  When  near  the  end  of  the  vaca- 
tion these  loans  were  brought  to  Mr.  Sea- 
man's attention,  more  fuel  was  added  to  the 
then  nearly  extinguished  flames  of  his  dis- 
pleasure caused  by  the  events  of  the  previous 
spring.  There  were  no  heated  arguments 
over  this  matter,  for  Payne  willingly  admitted 
himself  to  be  In  the  wrong  and  insisted  on 
coming  to  New  York  before  college  opened 
in  order  to  straighten  matters  out.  Neither 
Mr.  Seaman  nor  his  father  would  listen  to 
such  a  plan,  suspecting  that  the  wish  of 
"righting  his  concerns"  was  not  the  only 
consideration  drawing  him  back  to  the  charms 
of  New  York,  and  the  Idea  was  given  up. 

Vacation  over,  Payne  returned  to  college 
on  September  24  from  Albany,  where  he  had 
been  spending  the  latter  part  of  the  time. 
No  sooner  had  he  taken  up  the  work  of  the 
fall  term  than  he  was  seized  with  a  "violent 
remitting  fever."  After  a  period  of  over  two 
weeks  we  find  him  still  confined  to  his  bed  — 
although  evidently  in  high  spirits  —  writing 
to  his  friend  Robert  Sedgwick  whom  he  had 
recently  visited  at  Albany:  — 

76 


"The  fates  seem  to  have  set  themselves  in 
battle  array  against  me  and  my  Latin  gram- 
mar. Since  the  Monday  I  left  you,  I  have 
scarcely  risen  from  my  bed.  Today,  for  the 
first  time,  I  venture  to  show  my  ^ diminished^ 
body  to  the  walls  of  my  bedchamber.  My 
bed  clothes,  unconscious  of  the  greatness 
which  they  covered,  have  very  impolitely 
suffered  themselves  to  get  dirty.  To  punish 
their  presumption  others  more  worthy  the 
dignity  have  been  procured.  The  interval  of 
exchange  is  devoted  to  you.  Conscious  of  the 
distinction,  I  hope  you  will  receive  it  with 
humility,  and  properly  appreciate  the  honor 
which  is  conferred." 

The  period  of  convalesence  after  an  illness 
is  often  seized  upon  as  an  opportune  time  for 
writing  letters.  This  was  so  in  Payne's  case, 
and  he  seems  to  have  gone  the  rounds  of  his 
friends  and  relatives.  His  sister  Eloise  ap- 
pears, however,  to  have  been  the  favored  one, 
and  from  a  veritable  volume  written  to  her 
on  October  9, 1  take  the  following  interesting 
and  valuable  selections :  — 

"I  comply  with  your  request  as  to  our 
seminary;  but  I  cannot  be  so  particular  in 

77 


my  account  now  as  I  may  be  when  I  have 
more  paper  and  less  to  say.  Our  largest  edi- 
fice ^  has  a  large  grass  plot,  ornamented  with 
trees  in  its  front.  It  faces  the  street  on  one 
side,  and  a  grass  plain,  being  the  play  yard, 
on  the  other.  At  each  side  of  this  plain,  and 
fronting  each  other,  stand  two  white  story 
buildings,^  with  long  piazzas  appropriated  to 
lodging  rooms.  The  Grammar  School  is  in 
the  large  edifice.  It  has  some  internal  regu- 
lations which  have  no  connection  with  the 
college,  but  in  other  respects  is  subject  to 
its  jurisdiction.  The  grammar  scholars  are 
exempt  from  fines,  the  common  college  pun- 
ishment and  liable  to  flagellation.  They  are 
debarred,  which  the  students  are  not,  from 
the  privilege  of  leaving  the  yard  in  recreation 
hours,  without  special  permission;  and  when 
the  students  retire  to  their  rooms  to  study, 

*  This  building  was  finished  in  1804,  and  was  known  as 
the  "West  College."  It  was  in  the  Italian  style  of  architec- 
ture and  from  the  designs  of  Philip  Hooker,  an  eminent  archi- 
tect of  Albany.  It  was  of  stone,  three  stories  high,  besides  a 
high  basement,  and  was  surmounted  by  a  central  cupola. 
This  building  contained  a  residence  for  the  President,  the 
chapel,  library,  and  recitation  rooms,  together  with  a  comfort- 
able number  of  dormitories. 

2  These  buildings  were  erected  after  1805,  and  were  known 
as  the  "Long  College." 

78 


the  grammar  scholars  study  and  recite  in  the 
schoolroom.  They  attend  prayers,  break- 
fast, and  church,  with  the  collegians. 

"There  are  two  literary  societies  ^  recog- 
nised and  patronised  by  the  authority  of  col- 
lege. Their  objects  are  the  promotion  of 
virtue,  science,  and  friendship,  —  their  busi- 
ness, extemporaneous  debating  and  compo- 
sition. They  have  each  a  valuable  library. 
One  is  the  Adelphic,  the  other  the  Philo- 
mathean  Society." 

How  deep  are  the  moans  of  the  average 
collegian  of  today  as  the  sound  of  the  seven 
o'clock  rising  bell  is  borne  to  his  ears!  Can 
we  stretch  our  imagination  far  enough  to 
picture  the  scene  were  he  required  to  shift  to 
the  schedule  of  the  early  days? 

Payne  continues,  —  "I  give  you  here  our 
course  of  proceedings;  —  to  each  duty  the 
bell  warns  us  to  be  punctual.  — 

5,  Rise. 

3^  p  5,  Prayers;  after  which  the  classes 
retire  with  their  several  instruc- 
tors to  their  particular  recita- 
tion rooms. 

*  These  societies  are  still  in  existence. 

79 


8,  Breakfast. 

Half  past   nine  to  eleven,  study  In  rooms. 

11,  Recitation. 

12,  Recreation. 

I,  Dinner  —  recreation  till  2. 

2  to  4,  Study  in  rooms. 

4,  Recitation. 

5,  Prayers. 

J^  p  5,         Tea.     Recreation  till  7. 

7  to  9,  Study  In  rooms.     From  9  to  il, 

devoted  to  anything  which  is 
agreeable  in  the  rooms. 

"Not  a  light  must  be  seen,  under  a  severe 
penalty,  after  eleven;  and  after  seven  no  stu- 
dent is  allowed  to  be  out  of  his  room,  under 
a  like  restriction. 

"A  professor  is  constantly  visiting  the 
rooms  to  see  the  laws  fulfilled.  They  are  as 
vigilant  as  they  are  severe.  The  greatest 
harmony  exists  among  the  students,  both  as 
regards  their  studies  and  as  respects  each 
other.  On  Sunday  no  intercourse  is  allowed 
without,  and  very  little  within,  the  college 
walls.  The  students  attend  church  in  pro- 
cession. One  professor  goes  to  each  place 
of  worship,  and  any  student  may  follow 
him." 

Careful  calculation  showed  Payne  that  his 
80 


expenses  for  the  year  would  exceed  the  stipu- 
lation of  Mr.  Seaman.  Homesick,  and  "tor- 
tured by  occasional  fits  of  despondency  and 
blue  devils,"  as  he  expressed  it  in  the  letter 
to  his  father  dated  October  14,  we  can  pic- 
ture this  boy,  now  scarcely  more  than  fifteen 
years  old,  laying  his  plans  for  the  future,  with 
a  view  to  not  only  making  up  a  probable  de- 
ficiency in  his  own  accounts,  but  planning 
with  a  laudable  unselfishness,  to  extend  aid 
to  others.  Thus,  on  the  same  date  as  above, 
he  writes  to  Henry  Brevoort:  — 

"It  has  been,  and  still  is,  a  great  object 
with  me  to  make  myself  independent,  in 
pecuniary  matters,  of  my  family.  I  have 
been  flattering  myself  with  effecting  the  end, 
without  considering  the  means.  My  father 
has  a  family  of  five  children  to  support.  He 
is  in  the  decline  of  life,  and  the  labor,  the 
painful  labor  with  which  he  provides  for 
them  will  tend  to  shorten  those  years  which 
to  our  family  are  so  inestimable.  —  Can  /, 
then,  who  should  aid  him  in  his  duties,  who 
should  lighten  his  burthen,  take  the  bread 
from  the  mouth  of  my  dear  parent?  Oh, 
God !     How  agonizing  the  thought  —  Not  to 


subject  his  noble  independence  of  spirit  and 
strict  integrity  of  principle  to  the  necessity 
of  relieving  me,  I  have  in  view  to  issue  pro- 
posals (under  the  veil  of  profound  secrecy) 
for  a  work  to  be  entitled,  The  American 
Plutarch.  I  had  to  render  it  an  useful  and 
amusing  compendium  of  American  Biography, 
having  already  made  some  collections,  and 
being  still  in  progress  with  more.  The  prob- 
able profit  may  be  ascertained  by  previous 
proposals,  and  the  publication  can  be  at- 
tended to  during  our  winter  vacation.  I  can 
make  it,  I  trust,  a  lucrative  as  well  as  an  amus- 
ing compendium. 

"As  to  Schenectady  and  Union  College,  I 
mean  to  sit  down  with  as  much  content  as 
any  Dutch  Magistrate  in  the  place,  and  to 
grow  so  wise  you  '11  have  to  talk  with  me  very 
soon  by  the  intervention  of  Magi.  I  have 
been  reading  Franklin's  Way  to  Wealth,  and 
mean  to  become  economical." 

Having  definitely  decided  on  his  future 
course,  Payne  hastened  to  place  the  project 
of  The  American  Plutarch  before  his  father, 
soliciting  his  sanction,  but  simply  giving  as 
his  reason  for  desiring  its  issue  that  he  was 

82 


"desirous  of  providing  against  exigencies." 
He  says:  "You  will  perhaps  regret  the  return 
of  the  cacoethes  scribendi,  but  I  assure  you 
this  work,  without  any  eye  to  renown,  will 
be,  like  Peter  Pindar's  razors,  merely  'made 
to  sell.'  I  shall  keep  myself  entirely  in  the 
back  ground,  and  veil  the  author's  name  in 
profound  secrecy.  I  will  promise,  however, 
that  my  great  men  shall  not  interfere  with 
my  great  object.''^ 

To  Payne's  illness  and  confinement  we  are 
indebted  for  a  little  poem  which  in  the  light 
of  after  events  becomes  of  the  greatest  inter- 
est and  importance.  Alone  in  his  room,  his 
thoughts  turning  to  his  friends  and  family  at 
home,  he  followed  his  natural  inclinations 
and  in  verse  gave  utterance  to  his  feelings.  — 
"Eloise's  letter  caught  me  in  one  of  my  fits 
of  hypo  during  the  height  of  my  illness," 
writes  Payne,  in  the  same  letter  to  his  father: 
"It  afforded  me  much  satisfaction,  for  I  was 
just  at  that  moment  reducing  the  pleasures 
of  Home  to  doggrell." 

To  the  world  John  Howard  Payne  is  best 
known  as  the  author  of  "Home,  Sweet 
Home."    This  song  was  introduced  by  Payne 

83 


in  his  opera  Clari,^  which  had  its  first  presen- 
tation at  Covent  Garden  Theater,  London, 
May  8,  1823.  Such  praise  was  at  once  ac- 
corded the  song  that  Goulding  &  Co.,  who 
had  obtained  the  publishing  rights,  realized 
a  fortune  from  its  sales.  The  success  of  the 
opera  and  the  publication  of  the  song  bene- 
fitted Payne  least  of  all.  He  had  sold  the 
manuscript  for  a  lump  sum,  and  retained  no 
interest  in  it.  Further,  the  publisher  did  not 
even  deem  it  necessary  to  place  his  name  on 
the  titlepage  as  the  author  of  the  words. 

The  fact  that  Payne  was  not  credited  with 
having  written  the  words,  when  "Home, 
Sweet  Home"  was  published,  gave  rise  to 
the  belief  on  the  part  of  many  that  the  credit 
belonged  to  someone  else,  although  the  several 
attempts  that  have  been  made  to  deprive 
Payne  of  the  authorship,  or  prove  him  guilty 
of  plagiarism,  have  in  every  case  failed. 

There  has  lately  been  presented  to  Union 
College  a  poem  by  Payne,  hitherto  unpub- 
lished, found  among  the  papers  of  Harmanus 
Bleeker,  of  Albany.    As  Bleeker  was  a  friend 

^  Readers  of  the  Dickens-Beadnell  letters  will  remember 
that  Dickens  played  the  part  of  Rolamo,  father  to  Clari,  and 
that  the  playbill,  the  earliest  known  in  which  Dickens'  name 
appears,  is  reproduced  in  that  volume. 

84 


and  patron  of  Payne  during  his  college  course, 
it  seems  likely  that  this  poem  is  the  very  one 
on  which  he  was  at  work  when  in  his  "fit  of 
hypo"  his  sister's  letter  came  to  cheer  him. 

In  the  light  of  the  question  of  the  author- 
ship, and  as  to  its  value  in  the  history  of  the 
writing,  how  interesting  then  is  this  poem, 
given  below,  written  while  Payne  was  a 
student  at  Union  College,  the  very  genesis  of 
the  idea  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home!" 

Home  — 

Where  burns  the  lov'd  hearth  brightest 

Cheering  the  social  breast? 

Where  beats  the  fond  heart  highest, 

Its  humble  hopes  possess'd? 

Where  is  the  smile  of  sadness, 

Of  meek-eyed  Patience  born, 

Worth  more  than  those  of  gladness 

Which  Mirth's  bright  cheek  adorn? 

Pleasure  is  mark'd  by  fleetness, 

To  those  who  ever  roam: 

While  grief  itself  has  sweetness 

At  Home !  dear  Home  1 

There  blend  the  ties  that  strengthen 
Our  hearts  in  hours  of  grief. 
The  silver  links  that  lengthen 
Joy's  visits  when  most  brief: 

85 


There  eyes  in  all  their  splendors 

Are  vocal  to  the  heart, 

And  glances  gay  or  tender 

Fresh  eloquence  impart: 

Then  dost  thou  sigh  for  pleasure? 

O !  do  not  widely  roam, 

But  seek  that  hidden  treasure 

At  Home!  dear  Home! 


Does  pure  religion  charm  thee 

Far  more  than  ought  below? 

Wouldst  thou  that  she  would  arm  thee 

Against  the  hour  of  woe? 

Think  not  she  dwelleth  only 

In  temples  built  for  prayer; 

For  Home  itself  is  lonely 

Unless  her  smiles  be  there; 

The  devotee  may  falter. 

The  bigot  blindly  roam; 

If  worshipless  her  altar 

At  Home!  dear  Home! 


Love  over  it  presideth 
With  meek  and  watchful  awe, 
Its  daily  service  guideth, 
And  shews  its  perfect  law. 
If  there  thy  faith  shall  fail  thee. 
If  there  no  shrine  be  found, 
What  can  thy  prayers  avail  thee 
With  kneeling  crowds  around? 
86 


Go!  leave  thy  gift  unoffered, 
Beneath  religion's  dome, 
And  be  the  first  fruits  proffer'd 
At  Home!  dear  Home! 

With  Payne's  convalescence,  things  began 
to  assume  a  more  pleasing  appearance,  and 
the  "melancholy  tints  of  Hie,  Haec,  Hoc,  to 
brighten,"  as  he  then  expressed  himself  in  a 
letter  to  William  Sampson.  After  the  vaca- 
tion season  filled  with  so  much  bustle  and 
pleasure  the  restraints  of  college  life  did  not, 
however,  sit  as  easily  as  they  might.  The 
good  resolutions  formed  during  his  sickness 
were  nevertheless  not  to  be  broken,  and  he 
continues  philosophically:  — 

"To  a  novice,  the  languages '  have  few 
charms;  but  we  must  sow  to  reap,  and  the 
expectation  of  the  harvest  is  a  stimulant  to 
the  labors  of  the  field,  which  sweetens  their 
toil  and  softens  their  fatigues." 

Not  the  least  among  the  attractions  at 
Ballstown  during  the  summer  had  been  the 
charms  of  a  certain  Miss  Fairlie.  "Absence 
and  change  of  air"  were,  however,  infallible 
remedies  for  love,  and  to  the  long  list  of  reso- 
lutions, reluctantly  was  added  another  in  a 
letter  to  Henry  Brevoort:  — 

87 


"Miss  Fairlle  often  names  me.  Now  could 
I  believe  you  I  would  bless  the  stars  which 
have  decreed  such  honor  to  my  sad,  silly 
name.  I  was  determined  to  think  no  more 
of  this  *  lovely  sylph,'  but  you  have  'touched 
the  string  on  which  hung  all  my  sorrows.'  I 
have  made  a  solemn  resolution,  however,  to 
forsake  — 

*  Cupid,  flames  and  flowers 
Hearts 
Darts 
And  amaranthine  bowers : ' 

"My  Dulclnea  was  fascinating  enough  to 
have  caught  any  Quixotean  Adventurer,  — 
but  I  was  so  consummately  ridiculous  that  if 
all  the  beauties  in  all  the  Paradises  of  all  the 
world  were  to  assail  me  I  never,  never  would 
enter  the  lists  again." 

I  have  some  doubts  as  to  the  faithfulness 
with  which  this  last  resolution  was  kept,  for 
Payne  freely  admitted  that  his  curse  was 
"the  love  of  fair  faces,"  and  we  find  him 
about  this  time  endeavoring  to  appease,  with 
some  very  mediocre  verses,  "a  beautiful 
young  lady  who  found  fault  with  the  author 
because  he  looked  at  her."  ^ 

*  Through  the  courtesy  of  Mr.  Thatcher  T.  P.  Luquer  the 
writer  has  in  his  collection  a  copy  of  this  poem. 

88 


More  for  amusement  than  in  hope  of  pecu- 
niary reward  Payne  now  gathered  materials 
for  a  "correct  life  of  Hodgkinson,"  which  on 
November  5,  1806,  he  offered  to  the  editor 
of  the  Polyanthos  on  the  following  terms :  — 

"If  my  puerile  exertions  in  aid  of  your 
miscellany  can  avail  you  anything,  you  shall 
have  them  for  their  sterling  worth  —  nothing.''^ 

The  contemplated  Plutarch^  even  before 
the  prospectus  was  issued,  was  relinquished 
as  "stale,  flat  and  unprofitable."  Immedi- 
ately another  plan  was  thought  of,  and  as 
quickly  given  up.  On  November  18  he  thus 
writes  to  his  father:  "It  was  to  undertake 
in  concert  with  some  printer  or  bookseller  in 
Albany  a  monthly  miscellany,  with  engrav- 
ings, on  the  plan  of  the  Boston  Polyanthos. 
The  enterprise  would  not  be  unsafe,  and  the 
entertainment  derived  from  its  executions 
would  amply  remunerate  the  expense  of 
labour  and  time,  which  altogether  would  be 
very  trifling.  The  assistance  of  distinguished 
literary  characters  throughout  the  United 
States  would  be  solicited  and  expected." 

In  order  to  obtain  a  set  of  Shakespeare  and 
other  books  which  he  wanted  Payne  turned 
book-agent,  and  for  Munroe  &  Francis,  of 

89 


Boston,  endeavored  with  some  success  to 
secure  subscribers  to  their  second  edition  of 
Shakespeare. 

It  was  now  approaching  December,  and 
still  no  feasible  plan  had  been  brought  forth 
whereby  Payne  could  discharge  his  debts  or 
aid  his  father.  "  Nil  desperandum  and  labor 
omnia  vincit  improbus,  et  duris  urgens  in  rebus 
egestas  are  my  mottoes,"  he  writes  to  his  father. 
Suddenly  it  occurred  to  Payne  that  here  was 
an  opening  for  such  a  literary  paper  as  he 
had  intended  issuing  in  New  York  before  the 
scheme  had  given  place  to  the  Thespian  Mir- 
ror, and  in  December  there  appeared  the  fol- 
lowing proposal^  for  a  weekly  literary  paper 
to  be  known  by  the  name  that  Payne  had  in- 
tended using  in  his  New  York  venture,  The 
Pastime.  — 

"On  suitable  encouragement,  it  is  pro- 
posed to  issue  a  Weekly  Paper  in  this  City, 
to  be  called  — 

The  Pastime 

Such  persons  as  are  disposed  to  promote  a 
project  of  this  nature  are  requested  to  affix 

^  An  original  printed  proposal  is  in  the  library  of  Union 
College. 

90 


their  names  to  this  subscription.  The  editor 
will  not  implicate  himself  in  promises  which 
he  may  not  be  able  to  perform;  but  he  pledges 
himself  that  no  exertions  shall  be  wanting  on 
his  part  to  render  The  Pastime  a  spirited 
auxiliary  to  the  cause  of  polite  literature. 

It  will  be  commenced  with  the  next  session 
of  Union  College. 

Schenectady,  December,  1806. 


Conditions : 

The  work  will  be  afforded  at  One  Dollar 
per  session,  or  quarter,  payable  in  advance. 

It  will  be  printed  in  a  neat  octavo  form. 
Eight  pages  to  be  used  weekly. 

The  matter,  original  or  selected,  will  be 
exclusively  literary." 

Payne  spent  the  Christmas  vacation  with 
his  parents  in  Boston.  His  stay  was  pro- 
tracted some  days  beyond  the  period  fixed, 
by  another  sickness,  and  not  until  the  tenth 
of  February  did  he  start  on  his  return  to 
college.  He  was  indebted  to  Mr.  Seaman 
for  the  "indulgence  of  tasting  the  pleasures 
of  home,  of  all  pleasures  the  most  delightful," 

91 


and  on  February  9  before  he  returned  to 
college  he  feelingly  wrote  to  express  his  ap- 
preciation, adding  with  sentiments  of  esteem 
and  gratitude,  that  "no  object  was  dearer  to 
his  heart  than  that  of  regaining  the  confidence 
which  his  own  imprudences  had  suspended, 
than  that  of  meriting  the  kindness  which  he 
could  not  claim." 

Payne  had  been  back  at  college  but  a  short 
time  when  he  was  again  assailed  by  a  severe 
attack  of  the  "blues."  Everything  seemed 
at  "sixes  and  sevens."  The  frailty  of  his 
constitution  rendered  Incessant  attention  to 
study  impossible,  and  his  progress  was  not 
to  the  liking  of  Mr.  Seaman.  Schenectady, 
as  he  said  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Seaman,  seemed 
"one  of  the  most  unlovely  places  in  the  world," 
and  in  adopting  the  opinion  of  "unprejudiced 
foreigners"  he  added  his  condemnation  of 
the  "policy  which  led  to  the  erection^  of  a 
college  in  one  of  the  most  unpleasant  swamps 
in  the  United  States."  The  question  of 
spending  money,  always  a  bone  of  contention 
between  Payne  and  his  guardian,  again  came 

^  Union  College  was  at  this  time  situated  at  the  corner  of 
Union  and  College  Streets.  The  present  site  on  the  hill  was 
not  obtained  until  1812. 

92 


to  the  front  and  in  reply  to  Mr.  Seaman's 
criticisms  Payne  wrote  on  February  20,  1807: 

"I  think  you  mistaken  when  you  consider 
$300  the  largest  allowance  made  at  college. 
Calculating  the  expenses  of  education  alone, 
including  some  contingencies  belonging  to, 
though  not  generally  estimated  in,  those  ex- 
penses, one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  will 
barely  suffice  to  cover  them.  Clothing  is 
very  expensive.  Traveling,  and  other  ap- 
pendages are  equally  so;  and  every  student 
has  spending  money. 

"The  furniture  of  our  rooms,  which  are 
large  and  elegant,  is  costly.  I  have  a  bed- 
stead and  matrass.  I  find  the  matrass  very 
unpleasant,  as  I  have  been  used  to  a  feather 
bed.  I  have  attempted  to  dispose  of  it,  but 
cannot;  and  a  feather  bed  is  an  article  of 
heavy  expense." 

The  printers  were  importunate  in  their 
demands  for  the  payment  of  their  "extrava- 
gant bill  of  $32.50"  for  the  fourteenth  num- 
ber of  the  Mirror.  This  bill  Mr.  Seaman  had 
promised  to  pay  on  Payne's  giving  up  the 
project;    but  he  had  evidently  not  done  so, 

93 


and  in  distress  Payne  places  the  matter  be- 
fore him.  — 

"I  have  referred  the  printers  to  you.  If 
you  think  me  still  unworthy  of  such  a  favor, 
I  must  work  till  I  can  pay  the  bill." 

We  have  but  to  add,  to  complete  the  dis- 
mal picture,  that  at  this  time  Payne's  father 
became  financially  embarrassed,  and  reports 
from  Boston  showed  that  his  mother  whose 
health  had  been  fast  failing  was  now  in  an 
alarming  condition.  With  justification,  Payne 
thus  wrote  to  Mr.  Seaman :  — 

"You  see  with  what  complicated  misery  I 
am  surrounded.  Every  moment  in  expecta- 
tion of  losing  the  dearest,  the  best  of  mothers. 
Every  instant  tortured  with  pecuniary  de- 
mands. Can  you,  Sir,  —  can  you  expect  that 
attention  to  study  which,  otherwise  situated, 
would  be  required  from  me?" 

On  February  21  from  out  this  chaos  of 
mind  and  body  issued  the  first  number^  of 

*  The  first  number  of  The  Pastime  contains  the  following 
editorial  note:  — 

"The  publication  of  The  Pastime  has  been  delayed  for  a 
few  days  by  the  illness  of  one  of  the  editors.  It  is  now 
brought  forward  with  some  hurry  of  preparation,  and  the 
first  number  rather  prematurely  submitted  to  the  public. 
Readers  will  therefore  judge  candidly  of  a  specimen  which 

94 


The  Pastime.  While  the  impression  is  given 
that  The  Pastime  was  issued  by  a  board  of 
editors  it  was  probably  the  work  of  Payne 
alone.  As  in  the  case  of  the  Thespian  Mirror, 
contributions  were  solicited  and  inserted. 
Poetry  bore  an  important  part  and  it  is  likely 

the  Editors  themselves  have  not  had  time  to  examine;  and 
critics  will  have  the  lenity  not  to  make  game  of  those  who  have 
done  their  best  to  provide  them  with  an  agreeable  pastime. 

"It  was  not  without  hesitancy  that  the  project  of  this 
paper  was  adopted.  The  extreme  uncertainty  of  public  ar- 
rangement is  a  barrier  to  literary  exertions,  which  few  have 
the  resolution  to  encounter,  and  still  fewer  the  perseverance 
to  surmount.  There  are  difficulties  and  dangers  in  the  way 
of  every  literary  adventurer  which  experience  only  can  fore- 
see, and  fortitude  only  can  withstand.  The  caprice  of  readers 
who  do  not  know  their  own  taste,  and  the  vanity  of  writers 
who  will  not  know  their  own  defects,  must  be  humoured,  and 
must  be  borne.  An  editor  is  like  a  farmer's  drudge  horse; 
anybody  may  use,  everybody  may  abuse,  but  no  one  is  com- 
pelled to  treat  him  kindly. 

"Such  considerations  staggered  our  resolution,  but  others 
pressed  us  forward  to  persevere.  We  sat  upon  the  shore  and 
beheld  the  sea  on  which  we  were  about  to  embark,  covered 
with  wrecks.  But  the  clouds  broke  as  we  gazed  upon  the  dis- 
tant horizon.  We  knew  that  the  waters  had  been  passed,  and 
that  they  might  be  passed  again.  The  pleasure  of  literature 
stole  upon  our  view,  and  we  smiled  upon  its  difficulties. 

"Thus  determined,  our  first  number  is  abruptly  submitted 
to  the  public.  With  the  trembling  hand,  the  beating  heart, 
and  the  moisten'd  eye  of  parent,  we  give  this  infant  to  be  fos- 
tered by  their  care,  to  be  supported  by  their  munificence. 
Our  little  work  is  left  with  them;  and  when  it  shall  become 
unworthy  of  patronage,  it  is  their  duty  to  consign  it  to  the 
shades  of  oblivion." 

95 


that  many  of  the  poems  were  written  by 
Payne.  Biographies  were  inserted,  as  it  was 
stated  editorially,  "when  the  pressure  of 
study,  or  dearth  of  communications"  com- 
pelled the  substitution  of  selected  articles  in 
place  of  original  essays,  and  in  such  cases  it 
was  the  object  of  the  "editors"  to  collect 
such  pieces  as  from  their  scarcity  might  bear 
"the  stamp  of  novelty,  and  from  their  nature, 
the  charms  of  interest." 

This  same  week  brought  a  change  in  the 
method  of  Payne's  instruction.  At  his  own 
request,  and  under  the  sanction  of  Dr.  Nott, 
he  was  placed  in  the  care  of  Professor  Ben- 
jamin Allen,  whom  in  a  letter  to  his  father 
he  called  "the  most  learned  man  in  college." 
He  was  to  be  privately  prepared  to  enter  the 
college  proper  at  the  next  Commencement. 
Payne  always  preferred  private  instruction 
and  the  change  was  extremely  agreeable  to 
him.  While  the  cost  was  greater  (twelve 
dollars  per  quarter  as  against  six,  the  regular 
college  tuition),  it  was  felt  by  all  that  the 
gain  would  be  incomparably  greater.  "I  wish 
to  understand  what  I  learn,"  writes  Payne  to 
Mr.  Seaman.  "I  have  been  hurried  forward 
in  the  Latin;  I  have  travelled  with  so  much 

96 


celerity  that  I  know  nothing  of  the  country 
through  which  I  have  passed!  I  have  been 
forced  into  a  dark  forest,  and  if  I  were  left 
alone  it  would  be  as  impracticable  to  find  my 
way  out  of  it  as  to  penetrate  the  mysteries  of 
Fate,  and  unveil  the  face  of  futurity." 

Under  the  new  arrangement  matters  seemed 
to  progress  more  smoothly.  The  spring  va- 
cation broke  the  monotony,  and  gave  place 
to  a  very  pleasant  trip.  Payne  travelled 
through  New  Jersey,  —  visiting  Newark, 
Trenton  and  Princeton,  —  and  went  to  Phil- 
adelphia, where  he  remained  some  time. 

At  Newark  Payne  met  one  of  his  "old 
flames."  "Sweet  soul:  how  pretty  she  is," 
he  exclaims  in  a  letter  to  James  Lewis,  dated 
April  25,  1807.  "We  exchanged  stages  with 
her  at  Newark,  and  I  made  great  exertions 
to  get  the  seat  which  she  occupied,  and  often 
knocked  my  head  against  the  coach's  side, 
supposing  it  possible  at  least  that  her  head 
might  have  knocked  against  the  same  place." 
Though  Payne  describes  the  roads  as  not  un- 
like "the  devil's  turnpike  to  the  infernal 
regions,"  the  country  appeared  to  him  a 
"paradise."  He  was  greatly  impressed  with 
the  historical  setting  of  the  places  through 

97 


which  he  passed.  "Princeton,"  he  writes  in 
his  letter  to  Lewis,  "is  a  most  delightful 
place;  but  the  college  edifice  itself,  built  of 
huge  stone,  with  the  smallest  kind  of  win- 
dows, —  gives  the  idea  of  a  jail  standing  in 
Elysium." 

Before  his  return  to  college  Payne  stopped 
a  few  days  with  his  friends  in  New  York. 
During  his  visit  he  found  time  to  write  a  long 
letter  to  his  mother.  While  many  written  to 
his  father  are  extant,  I  can  find  no  trace  of 
any  other  written  to  his  mother.  This  is  the 
more  remarkable  as  Payne  always  spoke  of 
her  in  the  most  affectionate  terms,  and  had 
evidently  a  great  love  for  her.  So  interest- 
ing is  this  letter,  and  such  a  light  does  it 
throw  on  the  thoughts  and  character  of 
Payne  that  I  give  it  here  in  its  entirety.  — 

"I  have  often  regretted  having  so  long 
neglected  to  give  you  a  stronger  testimony 
of  anxiety  for  your  decayed  health,  than  the 
mere  inquiry  of  a  family  letter.  The  time 
for  acknowledging  the  error,  and  the  attempt 
to  atone  for  it,  has  been  constantly  put  off 
for  an  hour  of  more  leisure,  which  has  never 
yet  arrived,  and  perhaps  never  may.     In  a 

98 


moment  of  hurry,  therefore,  I  have  resolved 
to  do  the  thing  at  once,  and  tho'  I  cannot 
say  half  that  I  could  wish,  I  am  unwilling  to 
encourage  the  spirit  of  procrastination. 

"It  has  long  been  my  desire  to  acquaint 
you  with  the  sentiments  and  principles  which 
actuate  my  conduct.  The  more  so,  as  I  know 
you  have  had  reasons,  and  cogent  ones  too, 
to  fear  much  for  me;  and  that  you  had 
grounds  to  believe  me  deficient  in  moral 
sense,  and  in  a  conviction  of  accountability 
to  my  Maker.  I  wish  such  anxieties  to  be  re- 
moved, for  tho'  I  am  not  versed  in  the  in- 
tricacies of  sacred  lore,  I  adore  my  God,  and 
profoundly  venerate  the  Christian  Religion. 
I  seek  to  avoid  theological  discussions  and 
all  the  perplexities  of  abstruse  speculation. 
My  intent  is  to  make  myself  perfectly  familiar 
with  the  Scriptures;  and  my  ruling  principle 
to  love,  honor,  fear  and  obey  the  Deity,  to 
avoid  evil  as  much  as  I  can,  and  to  do  all  the 
good  which  may  be  in  my  power.  The 
Christian  Religion  is  sweet  and  consoling; 
and  perhaps  not  the  least  convincing  proof 
of  its  divine  origin  springs  from  the  inward 
consciousness  of  having  done  our  duty  which 
is  produced  by  a  compliance  with  its  mandates. 

99 


"It  is  a  darling  object  with  me  to  be  in  a 
situation  to  support  my  father's  family  and 
to  free  him  from  the  burthen  of  its  concerns. 
How  soon  this  may  be  possible  no  human 
eye  can  foresee.  The  time  is  probably  dis- 
tant. I  shall  continue  to  apply  ardently  to 
my  studies;  but  should  active  exertions  for 
my  family  become  necessary,  I  shall  lay  them 
by  as  a  sacrifice  owing  to  my  relations,  and 
which  duty  requires  that  I  should  make. 

"In  the  regulation  of  expenses  perhaps  I 
have  everything  to  learn.  Until  recently  I 
have  been  insensible  to  the  value  of  money, 
and  the  necessity  of  economising.  I  find  that 
it  becomes  me  to  relinquish  many  gratifica- 
tions in  order  to  preserve  that  competence 
with  its  attendant  equanimity  of  temper, 
which  I  have  so  often  and  so  unfortunately 
lost.  I  have  long  been  conscious  of  the  benefit 
of  economy,  but  I  have  not  sought  the  means 
by  which  it  is  acquired,  while  admiring  its 
happy  influence  and  effect.  I  have  not  con- 
sidered how  little  and  incidental  expenses 
swell  imperceptibly  into  a  mountain  of  debt, 
enough  to  embarrass  and  perplex  the  mind 
forever  — 

"But,  while  I  am  imparting  these  resolu- 

lOO 


tions  and  describing  these  impressions,  I  am 
still  aware  how  necessary  it  is  to  guard  my 
own  feelings,  and  of  the  incredible  effect 
which  trifling  occurrences  have  upon  the 
most  important  resolutions.  These  are  the 
prominent  features  of  a  system,  the  minuter 
lines  of  which  are  now  merely  sketched,  and 
capable  of  change  or  total  erasure,  should 
they  be  found  to  require  it.  I  hope  no  part 
of  the  picture  will  prove  defective  or  de- 
formed; and  if  so,  that  the  impression  may  be 
indelible  on  *the  tablet  of  my  memory' — • 
that  I  may  wear  it  in  my  ^  heart  of  hearts.'' 

"I  have  much  to  fear  from  the  seductive 
and  overwhelming  influence  of  passion,  and 
I  have  an  aptitude  and  quickness  of  resent- 
ment to  subdue  before  I  can  hope  to  be  per- 
manently happy.  That  passionate  temper 
and  promptness  to  anger  and  resentment 
have  lost  me  many  a  friend  and  cost  me  many 
a  pang. 

"These  suggestions,  my  dear  Mother,  come 
warm  from  the  heart.  I  make  them  because 
I  think  they  are  due  to  that  forbearance 
which  you  have  shown  to  my  weaknesses  and 
to  that  uniform  exertion  which  you  have  made 
to  impress  me  with  useful  sentiments.    They 

lOI 


are  conveyed  in  a  less  finished  and  perspicu- 
ous manner  than  I  could  wish,  for  I  am  in  a 
room  which  is  all  confusion.  I  reproach  my- 
self for  not  giving  more  attention  to  your 
instructions  and  advice,  and  for  repeated 
instances  of  impatience  under  restraint,  and 
absolute  disobedience.  But  I  trust  that  you 
will  forgive  them.  You  have  held  up  my 
brother  William  as  a  perfect  model  for  my 
imitation.  I  will  imitate  him.  And  while  I 
endeavor  to  consummate  my  happiness  by 
rectitude  of  conduct  and  principle,  —  by  a 
reverence  for  my  Creator,  —  by  good  will 
towards  mankind,  —  believe  me,  my  dear 
Mother,  that  I  shall  never  cease  to  attribute 
all  that  is  good  in  me  to  the  early  care  and 
admonitions  of  my  Father  and  yourself." 

The  commencement  of  the  term  finds 
Payne  back  at  college,  and  hard  at  work. 
On  June  4,  1807,  in  a  letter  to  his  father  he 
tells  of  his  activities :  — 

*'My  studies  become  the  more  agreeable 
the  further  I  progress.  The  elementary  parts 
of  any  science  are  not  a  little  dispiriting. 
The  dead  languages  in  particular  require  a 
foundation  so  very  stable  that  it  demands  no 

102 


ordinary  resolution  to  conquer  the  difficulties 
to  be  met  with  in  such  a  manner  as  to  make 
any  rapid  movements  through  the  more  de- 
lightful range  —  especially  so,  to  those  who 
have  had  a  premature  foretaste  of  the  sweets 
of  literature.  With  me  whose  feelings  are 
mutable  as  the  'winds  of  Heaven,'  —  whose 
resolutions,  formed  at  one  moment,  vanish  at 
another,  nothing  is  certain;  but  I  should  say, 
with  my  present  impressions,  that  nothing 
could  give  me  greater  pleasure  than  to  realise 
the  most  ardent  wishes  and  hopes  of  my 
friends,  and  to  become  a  thorough  scholar.  I 
know  that  those  wishes  and  hopes  are  so 
flatteringly  exalted  that  it  will  be  an  eternal 
disadvantage  to  me.  I  have  been  destined 
to  be  led  by,  rather  than  to  lead,  public 
expectation;  and  it  remains  for  me  to  keep 
up  with  it  as  well  as  I  can. 

"I  read  about  one  hundred  and  twenty 
lines  a  day  in  Virgil,  and  am  now  one  hundred 
and  fifty  lines  forward  in  the  2d  ^neid. 
The  President  is  of  the  opinion  that  I  had 
better  enter  the  last  sessions  of  the  Sopho- 
more year,  which  will  keep  me  two  years  ^ 
in  college,  after  I  am  admitted. 

^  This  would  make  Payne  of  the  Class  of  1810. 
103 


"I  have  been  reading  for  the  first  time 
(and  I  have  not  yet  completed  it),  Mason  on 
Self  Knowledge.  I  shall  never  forget  the 
work,  or  the  author.  A  fund  of  useful  and 
indispensable  instruction,  —  it  should  be  en- 
graven on  every  one's  heart  and  indelibly 
impressed. 

"I  have  a  strong  desire  to  learn  the  Greek; 
and  I  shall  enter  upon  it  with  much  alacrity, 
as  soon  as  a  new  grammar  ^  now  publishing 
under  the  auspices  of  this  college,  is  com- 
pleated.  All  our  greek  grammars  now  are  in 
Latin;  2  and  the  intrinsick  difficulties  of  the 
language  are  perplexed  by  the  necessity  of 
translating  the  rules,  before  we  can  acquire 

'  Payne  evidently  refers  to  a  translation  of  James  Moor's 
Greek  Grammar,  edited  by  Samuel  Blatchford  and  published 
in  New  York  in  1807.  On  the  first  page  after  the  title  appears 
the  following:  — 

Recommendation. 

"At  a  meeting  of  the  Board  of  Trustees  of  Union  College, 
held  at  the  College  Hall  on  the  twenty-ninth  of  July,  1807. 

"Resolved,  that  Moor's  Greek  Grammar  as  translated 
by  the  Reverend  Samuel  Blatchford,  of  Lansingburgh,  be 
adopted  by  this  Board,  and  that  the  professors  be  directed 
to  introduce  the  same  into  their  respective  classes." 

'  Payne  is  in  error  on  this  point. 

A  "Grammar  of  the  Greek  Language"  known  as  "The 
Gloucester  School  Greek  Grammar"  was  published  in  Boston 
in  1800,  from  the  third  London  Edition.  A  second  edition  was 
issued  in  Boston  in  October,  1805. 

104 


their  meaning.  Though  this  impresses  them 
on  the  memory  it  is  so  dispiritingly  burthen- 
some  that  we  become  exhausted  with  con- 
struing the  grammar,  ere  we  ascertain  its 
application." 

On  the  eighteenth  of  June  Payne  suffered 
the  severe  and  irreparable  loss  of  his  mother.^ 

^  The  Pastime  for  July  ii  contains  the  following: 

OBITUARY 

"DIED  at  Boston,  on  Thursday,  the  i8th  of  June, 
after  a  long  and  afflictive  illness,  Mrs.  SARAH  PAYNE, 
AEt,  49,  consort  of  Mr.  William  Payne. 

"Mortality,  when  contemplated  at  a  distance, 
affects  us;  we  view  the  unknown  tomb  not  without 
emotion,  and  feel  involuntary  sadness  when  inscribing 
the  record  even  of  a  stranger's  death.  Nature  teaches 
us  to  sympathise  with  others:  we  catch  the  mourners' 
anguish,  and  mingle  kindred  tears  with  the  child  of  woe. 
It  is,  however,  only  when  the  fatal  archer  invades  the 
domestic  circle,  and  points  his  envenomed  arrows  at  the 
bosoms  of  our  dearest  friends,  that  the  heart  feels  the 
extent  of  anguish,  and  tastes  the  bitterness  of  funereal 
sorrows. 

"The  alarm  which  death  occasions  —  the  deep- 
toned  agony  it  excites  in  the  bosom  of  children  when  a 
parent  is  the  victim,  overcomes  them:  and  they  cling 
for  a  season  in  speechless  silence  to  the  urn  which  con- 
tains her  ashes.  But  departed  worth  leaves  even  the 
mourning  friends  a  solace.    There  is  a  soothing,  melan- 

105 


"I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  my  feelings 
on  this  melancholy  event,"  he  writes  to 
James  Lewis  a  few  days  later.  "Let  the 
tears  that  bedew  the  paper  on  which  I  write 

choly  pleasure,  in  recollecting  the  virtues  of  those  who 
are  now  no  more. 

"Our  attempt  to  give  the  character  of  the  deceased, 
might  be  deemed  ostentatious.  But  surely,  if  the 
sweetest  temper,  the  most  diffusive  benevolence,  the 
tenderest  sympathy  —  if  a  life  spent  in  the  exercise  of 
those  mild  and  endearing  virtues  which  adorn  the 
female  character,  claim  the  fond  recollection  of  sur- 
vivors, it  were  criminal,  as  it  would  be  unnatural,  to 
withhold  the  tribute  tear.  The  stranger  witnessed  her 
urbanity;  the  afflicted  were  solaced  by  her  sympathy; 
but  her  family  alone,  knew  the  extent  of  that  meek,  and 
unassuming  goodness,  which  concealed  from  the  world, 
displayed  itself  amidst  the  cares,  the  duties,  the  joys, 
and  sorrows  of  domestic  life.  These  humble  duties  — 
the  education  of  a  family,  the  instruction  of  servants, 
acts  of  kindness  to  dependants  —  these  lowly  virtues, 
tho'  now  overlooked  and  disregarded,  will,  when  the 
warrior's  triumph  shall  be  forgotten,  be  exalted  and 
honoured  by  the  SAVIOUR  OF  THE  WORLD. 

"But  merit  shields  not  from  death.  She  has  paid 
the  debt  of  nature.  To  her  family  and  friends  she  has 
left  the  purest  consolation  in  their  sorrows,  and  a  bright 
example  for  their  imitation.  Amidst  the  decays  of  a 
dying  body,  were  seen  the  distinctive  traits  of  a  celestial 
mind.  She  appeared  occupied,  indeed,  but  not  dis- 
turbed; contemplative,  but  not  alarmed;  resolute,  but 
tranquil;    and   with   a   steady  eye  she  looked   upon 

1 06 


speak  for  me.  To  me  It  is  attended  with 
every  aggravation.  It  is  so  long  since  I  saw 
her  —  what  must  my  poor,  dying  parent  have 
thought  of  my  neglect?  The  reflection  is  too 
painful  —  it  wounded  my  very  soul !  Here 
I  am  surrounded  by  those  (and  happy  indeed 
they  are)  who  never  having  known  affliction, 
know  not  how  to  pity  or  console  it. 

"I  do  not  feel  in  a  situation  to  write,  or  to 
do  any  thing  else.  I  have  suspended  my 
Pastime  one  week,  on  account  of  this  melan- 
choly dispensation.  Our  vacation  takes  place 
in  four  weeks  or  less,  when  I  shall  return  to 
Boston.  Alas!  how  can  I  endure  to  revisit 
the  mansion  where  I  was  wont  to  meet  my 
dear  mother,  —  to  see  all  gloom,  and  not  to 
find  her,  the  affectionate  sustainer  of  my 
infancy,  who  has  so  often  welcomed  me  home 
with  tears  of  tenderness  and  joy." 

At  the  close  of  the  college  year,  on  July  29, 
Payne  hastened  to  get  his  affairs  in  order, 

death,  encroaching  in  the  languid  form  of  disease, 
upon  her  mortal  frame,  which  she  seemed,  by  an  an- 
ticipated act,  already  to  have  committed  to  the  grave. 
Religion  now  occupied  her  thoughts,  and  took  posses- 
sion of  her  mind.  May  her  children  who  stood  listen- 
ing around  her  bed  of  death,  profit  by  her  counsel,  and 
imitate  her  example." 

107 


and  after  bringing  out  the  Commencement 
number  ^  of  The  Pastime  on  August  i,  left 
for  home. 

Although  the  fall  term  of  college  began  in 
September  Payne  did  not  return  to  Union 
until  the  latter  part  of  October.  The  death 
of  his  mother  still  weighed  heavily  upon  him. 
"Society,"  he  writes  to  Miss  Gleason,  "has 
tended  to  blunt  the  keenness  of  my  affliction, 
though  death  itself  can  only  obliterate  it 
altogether." 

He  seems  to  have  entered  upon  his  studies 
with  a  quiet  determination  to  "make  good." 
For  amusement  he  devoted  himself  to  his 
paper,  which  became  literally  his  Pastime. 
The  realization,  however,  of  his  responsibili- 
ties in  financial  matters,  in  study,  and  in  de- 

*  This  issue  contains  the  following  interesting  description 
of  the  Ball:  — 

"In  the  evening,  a  brilliant  and  fashionable  assembly  of 
ladies,  attended  the  Commencement  Ball  at  Rodger's.  The 
utmost  order  and  innocent  joy  pervaded  the  exercises  of  the 
day  and  evening.  But  one  thing  damped  the  enjoyments  of 
the  ball  room;  the  dustiness  of  the  floor,  which  when  danced 
on,  sent  forth  a  mist  thro'  which  it  was  hardly  possible  to 
distinguish  the  myriads  of  lovely  faces  that  were  present. 
Out  of  respect  to  the  sufferings  of  the  ladies,  and  the  vexa- 
tion of  the  gentlemen,  we  hope  Mr.  Rodgers  will  exile  all  the 
dust  from  the  ball  room  before  the  next  anniversary  of 
Commencement." 

1 08 


portment  subjected  him  to  numerous  attacks 
of  the  "blues."  On  January  9  he  writes  to 
James  Lewis :  — 

"My  feelings  are  soured  by  crosses  and 
rendered  sensitive  by  constant  misconstruc- 
tion and  much  misfortune  and  much  ill 
treatment.  Because  in  one  hour  my  heart 
swells  high  with  hope,  I  cannot  say  that  the 
next  will  not  find  me  plunged  into  ineffable 
despair." 

There  is  something  truly  pathetic  in  the 
struggle  of  this  youth,  trying  to  rid  himself 
of  his  "womanish  whim  whams,"  sometimes 
slipping,  but  always  conscientiously  striving 
to  do  as  his  friends  wished,  plodding  on  in 
the  hope  "that  the  Sun  would  soon  break 
forth  and  dissipate  the  clouds  that  lowered 
on  his  brow." 

It  is  remarkable  that  neither  in  The  Pas- 
time nor  in  his  college  letters,  do  we  find  any 
reference  to  indicate  the  relation  existing  be- 
tween John  Howard  Payne  and  the  student 
body.  Under  the  instructions  of  a  tutor, 
and  under  the  "particular  care"  of  the  Presi- 
dent, heralded  abroad  for  his  literary  ac- 
complishments and  his  precocious  abilities, 
every   act   and   word   watched,   his   position 

109 


was  peculiar,  and  not  at  all  conducive  to  the 
forming  of  strong  friendships  with  his  fellow 
students.  This  would  have  required  an  effort 
on  his  part  which  from  his  nature  I  doubt  if 
he  would  have  made.  We  know  that  on  his 
arrival  at  college  he  was  at  once  elected  to 
the  Adelphic  Society,  and  that  the  honor  thus 
conferred  was  deeply  appreciated  by  him.  He 
must  have  been  a  great  addition  to  this 
literary  Society.  When  in  1808  the  Society 
gave  its  exhibition  at  the  College,  he  con- 
tributed much  to  the  success  of  the  even- 
ing. The  exercises  included  a  play  entitled 
Pulaski,  written  by  Henry  Warner,  one  of 
the  students.  The  plot  was  founded  on  the 
story  of  the  celebrated  general  of  that  name, 
and  the  part  of  the  only  female  character, 
Lodoiska,  was  acted  by  Payne.  His  beauti- 
ful face  and  sweet  voice  admirably  suited  the 
assumed  role,  and  his  natural  aptitude  for 
acting  must  have  insured  a  really  finished  per- 
formance. Payne  was  appointed  to  deliver 
the  Epilogue,  and  in  the  character  he  had  sus- 
tained for  the  evening,  delivered  the  following,^ 
which  he  had  composed  for  the  occasion:  — 

^  I  have  taken  this  Epilogue  from  an  original  manuscript 
found  among  the  papers  of  Harmanus  Bleeker,  and  now  in  the 

1 10 


Stay  gentlefolks,  one  moment  longer  stay  — 
I  come  to  ask  you  how  you  like  our  play? 
For  our  poor  author,  in  a  wretched  plight 
Behind    the    scene    stands    trembling    with 

affright. 
And  sadly  troubled  for  its  fate,  sends  me 
To  beg  your  favor  for  his  tragedy. 

But  soft  a  while  —  let  me  a  moment  pause  — 
I  '11  plead  my  own,  before  I  plead  his  cause  — 

Tell  me,  ye  beaux,  are  all  your  hearts  still  free 
Or  are  ye  dying  for  the  love  of  me? 
Have  ye  not  hung  enraptur'd  on  my  charms  ? 
Have  ye  not  long'd  to  clasp  me  in  your  arms? 

Ladies!  do  ye  no  indignation  feel 
That  Lodoiska  should  your  lovers  steal? 
No  matter.  Ladies!   set  your  hearts  at  rest 
You  shall  retain  your  beaux  and  make  them 

blest  — 
For  lest  a  late  discov'ry  damp  their  joy 
In  time  I  tell  them  that  their  fair  's  a  boy. 

^^  A  boy  in  petticoats !^^    Nay  do  not  stare 
For  girls  in  breeches  are  not  half  so  rare! 

library  of  Union  College.  It  will  be  noted  that  these  verses 
are  widely  at  variance  with  those  of  the  Epilogue  as  published 
by  Payne  in  his  "Lispings  of  the  Muse,"  London,  1815. 
The  underscorings  and  lines  for  omission  in  the  Bleeker 
manuscript  give  me  reason  to  believe  that  it  was  the  original 
of  the  Epilogue  as  spoken,  and  that  it  was  later  revised. 

Ill 


What  characters  do  not  our  belles  assume? 
Of  men,  I  mean  —  none,  none  I  dare  presume. 

Says  that  young  lady  In  the  gun-boat  bonnet — 
Or  seems  to  say,  —  We  ape  the  men  —  fie  on  it  — 

Lord,    ma'am  —  I    ask    your   pardon  —  but 

if  you 
Deny  the  fact,  I  '11  try  to  prove  it  true. 
Are  ye  not  soldiers  ?  —  don't  ye  fight  with  eyes 
And  carry  many  a  strong  heart  by  surprise  — 
Who  can  resist  th'  artillery  of  charms  — 
The  bravest  heroes  yield  to  woman's  arms? 
Are  ye  not  merchants  too  ?  —  and  love  's  a 

trade 
On  which  embargoes  never  can  be  laid. 
Do  not  our  fair  ones  love  by  calculation? 
Do  they  not  marry  upon  speculation? 
And,  to  the  highest  bidder  sell  their  charms 
Purchasing  husbands  as  we  'd  purchase  farms? 
Are  ye  not  tinkers  for  ye  mend  our  hearts 
In  short,  the  mimics  of  all  manly  arts  — 
But  on  this  subject  I  might  prate  till  day  — 
So  I  '11  e'en  talk  of  what  we  call  our  play. 

Our  play!  the  criticks  sneeringly  exclaim  — 
*'Our  farce  were  surely  a  more  proper  name!" 
Nay,  criticks,  do  not  snarl  —  we  claim  from 

you 
Not  only  candor  but  indulgence  too  — 
And  if  that  kind  indulgence  you  refuse  — 
To  you,  ye  fair,  our  trembling  author  sues  — 

112 


To  you,  ye  fair,  beneath  whose  guardian  eyes 
The  humblest  bud  of  genius  never  dies  — 
Deck   with   your  lovely   smile   our    author's 

name  — 
"The  smiles  of  Beauty ^  are  the  wreaths  of 
fame!'' 

Throughout  the  spring  and  summer  of  1808 
Payne's  struggles  went  on  in  their  usual 
course,  each  month  bringing  him  nearer  the 
crisis  that  he  now  saw  was  inevitable. 

At  the  commencement  of  the  fall  term  this 
crisis  was  reached.  Payne's  relations  with 
Mr.  Seaman  were  strained  to  such  a  point 
that  a  break  ^  seemed  to  the  high  strung  boy 
the  only  means  through  which  he  might  re- 
tain his   self  respect.  — 

"I  perceive  that  your  resentment  of  the 
affair  of  1806  is  strong  as  ever.  I  have  said 
and  done  enough  to  satisfy  a  reasonable  mind 
of  my  regret  for  this  error,  —  and  I  shall  say 

*  Letter  to  Mr.  Seaman,  —  no  date.  Concerning  this 
letter  Payne  writes:  — 

"I  am  not  certain  whether  the  following  letter  was  ever 
sent;  but  it  is  a  perfect  transcript  of  my  feelings  and  inten- 
tions at  the  time,  and  is  therefore  preserved."  The  letter, 
or  something  like  it,  must  have  been  sent,  for  a  little  later 
we  read  in  a  letter  from  Payne  to  his  father  that  "Mr.  Sea- 
man appears  rather  pleased  with  the  idea  of  separation." 

113 


and  do  no  more.  I  am  conscious  but  of  one 
further  cause  of  hatred.  With  these  excep- 
tions, I  can  justify  every  thing  in  my  conduct 
towards  you.  But  my  regret  even  for  these 
is  greatly  weakened  by  your  continued  and 
uncharitable    austerity. 

"After  so  many  fruitless  attempts,  I  de- 
spair of  a  reconciliation.  God  knows  how 
much  I  wish  it!  What  can  be  more  humili- 
ating, what  more  disgraceful,  than  to  re- 
ceive favors  from  one  whom  you  cannot  call 
your  friend. 

"In  the  letter  now  before  me,  you  speak 
in  the  harshest  language  of  my  want  of  econ- 
omy. I  am  not  conscious  of  such  excessive 
prodigality  as  you  charge  me  with.  But  if 
I  were  you  have  not  suffered  from  my  ex- 
travagance. When  you  gave  up  your  guar- 
dianship, since  by  your  means  I  have  been 
induced  to  enter  college,  you  voluntarily 
offered  me  an  annuity  of  three  hundred  dol- 
lars, to  cease  whenever  I  should  graduate, 
and  even  the  term  of  my  stay  was  limited 
to  a  period  so  much  shorter  than  custom- 
ary, that  the  President  was  persuaded  of 
there  being  some  mistake  in  your  letter  upon 
the  subject.     But  I  do  not  murmur  at  the 

114 


arrangement.  I  shall  graduate  in  two  years 
from  August  or  not  at  all.  I  resign  the  de- 
lightful expectation  which  you  excited  in  the 
infancy  of  our  connection,  the  expectation 
of  travelling  in  Europe  after  leaving  college, 
without  a  sigh. 

"As  you  take  no  interest  in  my  proceed- 
ings, I  know  not  why  you  should  be  offended 
with  others  for  doing  so.  You  send  ^127  for 
me,  and  ^expect  me  to  trouble  you  for  no  more 
money  until  February,  1809.'  When  have 
I  troubled  you  for  money,  —  when  have  I 
expressed  a  wish  to  receive  more  from  you 
than  the  stipulated  sum,  since  first  that  sum 
was  stipulated.?  No,  Sir,  I  will  not  trouble 
you  for  money.  If  by  any  accident  my  wants 
should  exceed  my  means,  you  shall  not  hear 
of  it.  If  you  were  still  what  you  once  were  I 
might  have  accounted  for  the  disposition  of 
the  ''large  sum  of  money ^  which  I  raised  in 
Albany  last  winter.  But  as  you  feel  yourself 
not  enough  my  friend  to  answer  respectful 
letters,  I  know  not  why  you  should  expect 
to  have  that  'large  sum'  accounted  for  by  me. 
What  I  have  received  from  you,  as  you  your- 
self indicated,  I  shall  consider  as  a  loan. 
When  I  am  able  you  shall  be  repaid,   and 

IIS 


whatever  may  transpire  hereafter,  I  shall 
constantly  recur  to  the  origin  of  our  connec- 
tion and  be  grateful.  But  if  I  have  squan- 
dered *the  large  sum  of  money  raised  in 
Albany'  no  one  can  complain,  for  it  has  in- 
jured no  one.  If  I  have  applied  it  to  the  re- 
lief of  my  father,  I  have  done  so  silently.  It 
is  not  in  my  ^ heart  or  character'  to  make  any 
person  feel  the  weight  of  obligation  and  if  I 
am  benevolent  I  will  never  ostentatiously 
tell  the  world  that  I  know  it. 

*'Thus  situated,  and  under  the  influence 
of  these  impressions,  it  is  fit  that  we  should 
change  our  situation  with  regard  to  one  an- 
other. It  remains  then  for  me  to  suggest  that 
our  connection  may  cease  entirely,  and  that 
you  should  leave  me  hereafter  to  shift  for 
myself. 

"But  before  I  relinquish  your  assistance, 
allow  me  to  assure  you  that  I  do  it  not  with- 
out the  deepest  and  most  painful  regret. 
But  it  is  necessary.  Could  you  place  your- 
self for  a  moment  in  my  situation,  could  you 
feel  for  once  what  it  is  to  be  under  obligations 
to  one  who  plainly  declares  that  in  his  opinion 
you  stand  degraded,  you  could  not  blame  me. 
This   moment  will   form  an   era    in    my  life 

ii6 


which  can  never  be  recalled  without  emotion 
Be  assured,  Sir,  that  I  deplore  the  necessity 
which  separates  us,  however  desirable  I  may- 
deem  the  separation;  and  believe,  that  I  shall 
ever  remain  your  friend,  though  I  cannot  sub- 
mit to  be  your  dependant." 

Payne's  father  had  become  bankrupt.  At 
this  crisis  In  the  affairs  of  one  he  loved  so 
well,  Payne  at  last,  on  October  4,  1808,  found 
it  necessary  to  write  to  him  of  his  own  strug- 
gles and  his  failures,  and  to  suggest  future 
plans  which  seemed  the  only  means  of  sav- 
ing them  both,  —  plans  which  out  of  a  "sacred 
respect  for  his  feelings,  he  had  hitherto  en- 
deavored to  conceal:"  — 

"I  trust  you  will  not  be  displeased  with 
anything  which  has  taken  place,  for  I  have 
acted  throughout  consistently  with  my  no- 
tions of  decorum,  and  have  the  testimony  of 
my  own  conscience  to  justify  my  proceedings. 

"When  I  left  Schenectady  I  was  embar- 
rassed to  the  amount  of  three  hundred  dol- 
lars; and  to  extricate  myself,  depended  on 
the  half  year's  advance  from  two  hundred  and 
fifty  subscribers  to  The  Pastime,  at  one  dollar 

117 


and  fifty  cents  each.  Most  of  these  were  out 
of  town  —  some,  who  remained,  said  the 
paper  had  been  irregularly  sent  and  refused 
to  pay;  others  would  pay  when  the  volume 
closed;   but  very  few  gave  me  the  money. 

"Not  despairing  at  this  disappointment,  I 
endeavored  to  obtain  thirty  more  names  to 
the  ten  dollar  list  which  succeeded  so  well  in 
Albany;  ^  for  I  had  firmly  resolved  not  to 
return  without  the  money;  because  that 
would  expose  me  to  infinite  mortification, 
besides  the  unfavorable  influence  it  might 
have  upon  the  scheme  of  my  sisters.  To  this 
list  I  obtained  but  sixteen  new  subscribers; 
so  finding  all  my  plans  defeated  I  resolved 
after  many  struggles  and  much  consider- 
ation to  propose,  as  a  last  alternative,  the 
Stage. 

"My  connection  with  Mr.  Seaman  has 
never  been  a  happy  one;  and  I  have  not,  nor 
shall  I  be  able  to  circumscribe  my  annual 
expenses  to  $300.  Mr.  Seaman  expressly 
declares  that  at  the  end  of  two  years  from 
August  last  his  assistance  ceases,  and  gives 
me  no  hopes  of  aid  afterwards,  in  the  paper 

*  This  was  undoubtedly  the  plan,  the  success  of  which 
gave  Payne  "the  large  sum  of  money"  mentioned  above. 

118 


which  we  projected,^  and  which  held  out  such 
flattering  prospects  of  success.  And,  at  that 
time,  when  probably  the  Stage  will  be  the 
sole  resort,  success  will  be  infinitely  more 
doubtful  than  at  this  present  moment. 

*'In  short,  I  know  no  other  means  of  as- 
sisting you,  of  bettering  my  own  conditions, 
and  of  paying  my  debts. 

"Mr.  Cooper,^  whose  opinion  I  have  asked, 
and  before  whom  I  have  recited  Anthony's 
Oration  and  Brutus  and  Cassius'  conversa- 
tion respecting  Julius  Caesar,  without  point- 
ing out  a  single  fault,  discourages  me  entirely. 
He  says  that  after  infinite  study  and  labor 
I  may  possibly  succeed  —  as  a  youth.  Op- 
posed to  this,  I  have  the  favorable  judgment 

*  One  of  the  plans  proposed  by  Mr.  Seaman  for  Payne's 
future,  after  leaving  college,  was  as  follows:  — 

"I  think  the  law  will  be  the  great  Theater  (as  leading 
most  directly  to  political  eminence)  on  which  nature  has  formed 
him  to  act  with  success  and  reputation  as  well  to  himself  and 
friends  as  his  country.  While  studying  the  law  he  might  with 
the  assistance  of  a  printer  who  would  attend  to  the  laborious 
and  menial  part  of  the  business  conduct  a  daily  paper  in  this 
city  which  in  a  very  short  time  under  his  talents  as  editor 
would  prove  a  valuable  and  productive  property."  (Origi- 
nal letter  in  the  library  of  Union  College.  To  Payne's  father, 
February  14,  1806.) 

2  Thomas  Abthorpe  Cooper,  the  tragedian.  Born  in  Eng- 
land in  1776.  American  debut,  December  9,  1796.  Died 
April  21,  1849. 

119 


of  all  others  who  have  heard  me;  and  if  a 
determination  is  to  rest  on  the  opinion  of  any 
individual,  I  should  refer  it  to  Mr.  Fennel.^ 

"Mr.  Seaman  appears  rather  pleased  with 
the  idea  of  separation.  He  told  me  he  should 
write  you;  but  wfjunderstanding  that  he 
should  wait  until  Mr.  Cooper  had  given  an 
opinion,  he  has  been  beforehand  with  me. 
I  am  told  he  urges  you  to  come  hither  imme- 
diately. I  will  therefore  postpone  further 
particulars  until  we  meet;  and  can  only  add 
that  should  you  come  to  the  city  I  will  see 
you  remunerated  for  the  expenses  of  the  jour- 
ney, if  I  am  obliged  to  sell  my  shirt  to  pay 
them. 

"I  endeavor  to  bear  these  changes  with  for- 
titude and  consider  them  trials  rather  than 
afflictions;  though  my  courage  sometimes 
gives  way  to  sadness  and  impatience." 

The  publishing  of  The  Pastime  had  not  been 
renewed  on  Payne's  return  to  college,  the 
last  number  appearing  under  date  of  June 
1 8,   1808;    and  he  had  not  seriously  settled 

^  James  Fennell.  English  actor  and  dramatist.  Born  in 
1766,  He  acted  in  many  theaters  in  America  between  1797 
and  1806,  with  only  mediocre  success. 

120 


down  to  work  on  his  studies,  when  he  suc- 
ceeded in  obtaining  a  slow  and  reluctant  con- 
sent from  his  father  that  he  should  try  his 
fortune  on  the  stage.  The  reluctant  consent 
of  his  father  and  the  hesitating  approval  of 
his  friends  having  been  obtained  Payne  left 
college  in  November  for  Boston,  to  prepare 
for  his  new  venture. 

While  Mr.  Seaman  was  undoubtedly  re- 
lieved at  being  freed  from  his  charge,  he  did 
not  entirely  lose  his  interest  in  Payne,  and 
no  doubt  he  assisted  him  in  various  ways 
in  his  preparation  for  the  stage.  The  three 
months  of  preparation  must  have  been  busy 
ones,  and  Payne  probably  entered  upon  his 
work  with  the  same  zeal  and  enthusiasm  that 
had  characterized  his  previous  undertakings. 

The  public  had  not  forgotten  the  young 
author,  and  Payne  had  made  many  friends 
during  his  residence  in  New  York,  so  that  a 
large  and  fashionable  audience  crowded  the 
Old  Park  Theater,  on  the  night  of  February 
24,  1809,  to  witness  his  debut  as  "Young 
Norval"  in  Home's  Douglas.  Behind  the 
scenes,  with  Payne's  father,  stood  Mr.  Sea- 
man with  Mr.  Joseph  D.  Fay  who  had  com- 
posed the  introductory  prologue. 

121 


Payne's  handsome  looks  and  his  lithe, 
agile  figure  won  him  instant  favor.  His 
success  was  complete.  The  papers  of  the  day 
following  his  debut  were  extremely  warm  in 
his  praise.  Mr.  Dunlap,  who  was  present, 
says  in  his  History  of  the  American  Stage, 
"the  applause  was  very  great.  Boy  actors 
were  then  a  novelty,  and  we  have  seen  none 
since  that  equalled  Master  Payne." 

Payne  made  his  debut  at  an  age  most  dis- 
advantageous to  himself:  —  "Too  young  to 
enforce  approbation  by  robust,  manly  exer- 
tion of  talents;  too  far  advanced  to  win  over 
the  judgment  by  tenderness,"  ^  or  his  audi- 
ence by  the  novelty  of  extreme  youth  as  had 
been  the  case  with  Master  Betty. 

Payne's  success  under  this  handicap  is 
indicated  by  the  well  deserved  complimentary 
notices  he  received.  Following  the  perform- 
ance a  supper  was  given  in  his  honor  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Price,  the  manager,  and  later 
he  was  invited  to  make  Mr.  Price's  house  his 
home  during  his  stay  in  New  York. 

Determined,  in  deference  to  his  father's 
wishes,  to  keep  aloof  from  the  profession, 
Payne  adopted  the  policy  of  making  short 

^  The  Mirror  of  Taste,  February,  i8io. 
122 


engagements.  His  engagement  in  New  York 
was  for  six  nights  only;  but  having  one  night 
to  spare,  before  his  departure  for  Boston, 
where  he  had  his  next  engagement,  he  per- 
formed on  the  seventh  for  his  own  benefit. 
Despite  the  rigors  of  a  cold  stormy  night, 
Payne's  share  for  this  performance  was  four- 
teen hundred  dollars. 

On  closing  his  New  York  engagement  he 
had  the  misfortune  to  lose  his  temper,  and  in 
a  moment  of  childish  impetuosity  he  deeply 
irritated  Mr.  Price.  It  was  part  of  the  terms 
of  Payne's  engagement  that  he  was  to  be 
supplied  with  the  dresses  made  for  him.  The 
finery  of  these  dresses  strongly  appealed  to 
him.  When  his  wardrobe  was  sent  home 
to  be  packed  for  the  journey  he  found  all  the 
finery  taken  away.  On  summoning  Mr. 
Price  he  was  told  that  though  the  dresses  were 
his,  the  ornaments  were  taken  from  those  of 
Mr.  Cooper,  and  had  been  restored  to  him. 
Payne  was  furious  and  a  heated  argument 
ensued.  The  result  of  his  attitude  in  this 
matter  was  far-reaching,  both  with  regard  to 
Mr.  Price  and  Mr.  Cooper. 

As  the  result  of  his  success  in  the  New  York 
engagement,  Payne's  fame  began  to  spread. 

123 


From  the  letter^  of  one  who  witnessed  his 
performances  in  New  York  we  find  such  praise 
as  this:  —  "I  have  seen  Master  Payne  in 
Douglas,  Zaphna,  Selim  and  Octavian,  and 
may  truly  say  I  think  him  superior  to  Master 
Betty  in  all.  There  was  one  scene  of  his 
Zaphna  which  exhibited  more  taste  and  sen- 
sibility than  I  have  witnessed  since  the  days 
of  Garrick.    He  has  astonished  everybody." 

Payne's  first  appearance  in  Boston  was  at 
the  Old  Federal  Street  Theater,  on  April  2, 
1809,  also  in  the  character  of  "Young  Nor- 
val."  His  success  here  was  even  greater 
than  It  had  been  in  New  York  and  his  recep- 
tion amounted  almost  to  an  ovation. 

From  Boston  Payne  returned  to  New  York. 
The  seeds  of  strife  he  had  sown  on  the  ter- 
mination of  his  former  engagement  now  bore 
fruit.  Concerning  his  second  New  York 
engagement  he  wrote  to  Robert  Treat  Paine, 
Jr.,  on  June  11,  1809,  — 

"I  was  bullied  on  the  one  hand,  and 
preached  on  the  other,  into  a  compliance  with 
the  meanest,  most  niggardly  terms  ever  im- 

^  Life  and  Writings  of  John  Howard  Payne.  G.  Harrison. 
Page  38. 

124 


posed  on  a  poor  Stroller;  one  half  the  re- 
ceipts of  a  seventh  night,  for  playing  six. 
Cooper  was  here  when  I  came.  He  treated 
me  very  cavalierly.  We  met  at  a  large  dinner 
party  given  by  the  manager,  but  did  not  speak. 
In  Broadway  his  Majesty  and  myself,  the 
great  and  little  Roscius,  frequently  brushed 
by  each  other,  without  ^crooking  the  pregnant 
hinges  of  the  knee'  keeping  up  all  the  dignity 
of  two  tragedy  Heroes.  I  find  a  strong  party 
formed  against  me;  and  it  consists  exclu- 
sively of  Cooper's  parasites.  One  of  them 
declared  to  a  friend  of  mine  that  /  was  not 
aware  of  the  extent  of  injury  my  pocket  and 
reputation  had  sustained  on  account  of  my 
not  fawning  to  Mr.  Cooper  and  the  Manager  II 
Cooper,  without  putting  up  his  name,  had 
^looo  to  his  benefit  and  last  night  of  per- 
formance. I  had  ^755,  and  by  some  comi- 
cal manoeuvring  not  one  third  of  the  city 
knew  it  was  my  benefit.  My  houses  aver- 
aged   above   ^500,  —  extraordinary   for    the 


season." 


It  had  been  Payne's  intention,  after  com- 
pleting this  engagement,  to  go  to  England; 
but  after  remaining  in  New  York  until  Au- 

125 


gust  he  decided  to  give  up  the  project  and  to 
set  about  securing  engagements  for  the  com- 
ing "Winter's  business."  Having  heard  from 
many  sources  that  Mr.  Wm.  Warren  was 
desirous  of  securing  his  services  for  an  en- 
gagement at  his  theaters  in  Philadelphia  and 
Baltimore,  Payne  wrote  on  August  5  to  make 
the  necessary  terms  and  arrangements. — 

"Respecting  Terms,  I  should  prefer  that 
all  propositions  originate  with  yourself;  and 
shall  merely  observe  that  the  novelty  of  my 
appearance  and  the  peculiar  circumstances 
of  my  situation  promise  a  profitable  specula- 
tion on  your  side,  and  consequently  justify 
the  hope  of  good  terms  on  mine. 

"The  characters  which  I  play  are  Norval, 
Zaphna,  Selim,  Tancred,  Octavian,  Rolla,  Ham- 
let, Romeo,  Frederick,  Lothair,  Hastings,  and 
Edgar  in  King  Lear.  To  me  it  appears  good 
policy  to  limit  all  engagements  to  seven 
nights;  and  should  public  approbation  jus- 
tify it  to  repeat  a  visit  of  the  same  length  at 
some  distant  interval  of  the  same  season. 
Prior  to  anything  else  I  should  choose  to 
understand  that  the  plays  are  to  be  thor- 
oughly rehearsed  before  representation;    and 

126 


that  the  female  counterparts  should  be  given 
to  persons  petite  in  figure  as  myself.  I  men- 
tion thus  emphatically  the  first  of  these  arti- 
cles, having  suffered  not  a  little  from  the 
delinquency  of  others." 

There  is  strong  evidence  to  show  that  either 
because  of  his  trouble  with  Mr.  Price  and  Mr. 
Cooper  or  because  he  insisted  upon  holding 
to  the  terms  under  which  he  played  on  his  first 
engagement,  there  was  now  arrayed  against 
Payne  a  very  powerful  combination  for  the 
purpose  of  preventing  his  obtaining  engage- 
ments at  the  various  theaters. 

Satisfactory  arrangements  could  not  be 
concluded  with  Mr.  Warren,  and  in  September 
Payne  drifted  to  Providence,  Rhode  Island. 
His  reception  here,  while  there  was  no  theater 
open  for  him  to  act  in,  seems  to  have  been 
most  affectionate.  The  Rhode  Island  Ameri- 
can of  September  26,  thus  speaks  of  his  Provi- 
dence visit:  — 

"This  town  has  recently  been  indulged 
with  a  visit  from  Mr.  Payne,  better  known 
by  the  name  of  the  American  Roscius.  When 
his  panegyricks  were  running  the  newspaper 
rounds,  we  preserved  an  obstinate  and  stub- 

127 


born  incredulity.  Puffs  of  this  kind  are  so 
common  and  so  indiscriminately  bestowed 
that  they  seemed  to  us  evidence  as  decisive 
that  the  subject  did  not  merit  them,  as  that 
he  did.  Chance,  or  unexpected  good  for- 
tune, at  length  gave  us  the  more  decisive 
testimony  of  ears  and  eyes.  From  repeated 
evidences  of  this  kind,  we  are  happy  now  to 
concur  in   those   applauses." 

Subsequent  to  his  visit  to  Providence,  his 
means  reduced  by  lack  of  employment,  Payne 
in  despair  wandered  to  Baltimore  trusting  to 
obtain  an  engagement  on  any  terms.  He  ar- 
rived in  Baltimore  an  utter  stranger  with  one 
letter,  principally  on  business  regarding  an- 
other person,  and  with  only  a  shilling  in  his 
pocket.  Strolling  listlessly  about  the  streets 
in  search  of  the  theater,  he  chanced  to  notice 
the  sign  of  the  bookstore  to  which  his  letter 
was  addressed.  He  noticed  a  group  of  per- 
sons there  listening  to  a  letter.  On  mention- 
ing his  name  the  bookseller,  Edward  J.  Cole, 
caught  him  by  the  hand,  and  leading  him  to 
the  group  exclaimed,  "This  is  he!"  Mr. 
Jonathan  Meredith  and  Mr.  Alexander  Con- 
tee  Hanson  stepped  forward.  These  gentle- 
men told  Payne  that  they  were  just  reading  a 

128 


letter  from  a  friend  in  New  York  telling  of 
a  theatrical  combination  to  put  him  down. 
They  bade  Payne  have  no  fear  of  this  combi- 
nation. He  was  at  once  taken  to  Mr.  Mere- 
dith's house,  and  both  Mr.  Meredith  and  Mr. 
Hanson  espoused  his  cause  with  great  enthu- 
siasm. Through  the  interest  of  these  gen- 
tlemen and  their  friends  Payne  closed  engage- 
ments in  Baltimore,  Philadelphia,  and  several 
other  southern  cities,  on  very  lucrative 
terms. 

The  announcement  of  Payne's  first  ap- 
pearance in  Baltimore  created  a  degree  of 
excitement  and  enthusiasm  unprecedented  in 
the  history  of  the  drama  in  that  city.  He 
played  in  Baltimore  for  twelve  consecutive 
nights,  and  at  the  close  of  his  engagement 
went  to  Philadelphia,  where  he  enjoyed  re- 
ceptions similar  to  those  he  had  received  in 
other  cities.  His  Philadelphia  engagement 
of  ten  nights  terminated  on  December  22, 
with  a  benefit  of  ^1408.  The  best  of  his  other 
nights  was  ^1376  to  Hamlet.  From  his  two 
engagements  at  Baltimore  and  Philadelphia 
he  netted  between  ^3000  and  ^3200,  accord- 
ing to  a  letter  written  to  John  Barnard  on 
December  23,   1809. 

129 


From  Philadelphia  Payne  went  to  Richmond, 
concluding  his  engagement  there  on  Janu- 
ary 6.  At  Richmond  his  profits  were  beyond 
all  precedent  in  that  city.  The  first  citizens 
gave  him  their  kindest  welcome;  and  it  was 
at  this  time  that  he  became  intimate  with  the 
family  of  Colonel  Mayo. 

After  the  Richmond  engagement  Payne  was 
at  leisure  until  March,  and  we  have  reason  to 
believe  that  during  the  interim  he  paid  a  visit 
to  the  Hermitage,  Colonel  Mayo's  country 
seat,  just  outside  of  Richmond. 

Sometime  later  there  appeared  in  the  papers 
some  verses  In  praise  of  Miss  Mayo.  As  these 
verses  were  spread  broadcast,  —  and  also 
appear  in  the  collection  ^  of  Payne's  poems, 
—  a  letter  written  by  him  on  October  6,  1810, 
to  Major  Gibbon  is  of  interest  regarding  their 
publication. 

"I  take  the  liberty  of  commissioning  you 
to  explain  an  affair  which  has  given  me  much 
uneasiness,  because  it  Implies  a  kind  of  In- 
delicacy of  which  I  should  blush  to  believe 
myself  capable.  I  refer  to  the  publication  of 
some  sportive  verses  in  praise  of  a  lady  who 

^  Juvenile  Poems,  London,  181 5.  Life  and  Writings  of 
John  Howard  Payne,    G.  Harrison.    Page  310. 

130 


is  much  belov'd  in  your  domicile,  and  a 
favorite  wherever  she  is  known.  I  have 
waited  some  time,  hoping  to  see  Miss  Mayo  in 
New  York,  that  I  might  personally  exonerate 
myself  from  the  censure  to  which  this  un- 
pleasant business  must  expose  me,  while 
the  circumstances  attending  it  are  kept  in 
darkness. 

"You  are  requested  to  state  that  I  had  no 
agency  in  ushering  the  lines  in  question  before 
the  public.  A  copy  of  them  was  uncere- 
moniously taken  from  my  room  in  George- 
town by  a  visitor  and  by  his  means  printed, 
notwithstanding  my  earnest  and  repeated 
desire  that  it  should  go  no  farther  either  in 
type  or  manuscript.  I  am  proud  of  having 
it  known  how  highly  I  esteem  Miss  Mayo, 
and  am  conscious  that  the  lines  now  spoken 
of  are  in  every  way  unworthy  such  a  subject. 
But  my  objections  to  printing  them  arose 
not  so  much  from  the  incompleteness  of  the 
verses  as  from  the  effects  which  might  follow 
the  act  itself.  I  was  certain  that  Miss  Mayo 
would  shrink  from  that  glare  of  public  notice 
to  which  a  newspaper  compliment,  however 
humble,  would  expose  her;  and  was  unwilling 
to  excite  a  belief  that  I  thought  her  capable 

131 


of  deriving  pleasure  from  such  praise;  a  kind 
of  praise  to  which  she  could  listen  and  pre- 
serve that  sweet  modesty  which  ranks  among 
the  loveliest  attractions  of  her  sex,  and  which 
we  so  much  admire  in  Milton's  description  of 
our  Mother  Eve  who  started  back  and  fled 
from  her  own  shadow  in  the  lake. 

"I  do  not  know  that  Miss  Mayo  has  seen 
these  verses  which  by  a  miserable  conceit  too 
plainly  indicate  her  name  and  residence;  but 
having  noticed  them  in  almost  every  paper  be- 
tween Alexandria  and  Boston,  I  think  it  more 
than  probable  that  they  may  have  appeared 
in  Richmond.  At  any  rate  you  will  oblige  me 
by  becoming  a  pleader  in  my  behalf;  and 
tho'  I  have  too  much  respect  for  Miss  Mayo 
to  believe  that  she  has  not  been  offended,  yet 
I  think  she  has  urbanity  enough  to  forgive  me 
after  this  explanation.    Almost  the  whole  of 

my  short  acquaintance  with  Miss  M has 

been  passed  in  making  apologies  and  I  hope 
that  this  is  the  last  trial  I  may  give  her  pa- 
tience, and  the  last  opportunity  I  may  afford 
her  of  proving  that  she  can  be  merciful." 

Payne  fulfilled  an  engagement  at  Charles- 
ton, S.  C,  and  subsequently  played  in  Nor- 

132 


folk  and  Petersburg,  Va.,  and  in  August,  in 
the  city  of  Washington;  adding  to  his  laurels 
with  each  engagement.  Before  proceeding 
to  Washington  he  paid  a  visit  to  his  old  friends 
in  Baltimore.  His  visit  must  have  been  pleas- 
ant, for  on  July  ii,  he  writes  Miss  Caroline 
Crafts :  — 

"My  stay  in  Baltimore  was  enlivened  by 
the  company  of  a  charming  acquaintance, 
with  whom  I  became  almost  in  love.  This 
acquaintance  is  a  girl  of  the  purest  heart;  a 
heart  the  most  sensitive  and  affectionate. 
She  is  young  and  amiable  —  not  passively 
amiable  —  not  capable  of  enduring  what  dis- 
pleases her  without  a  murmur  —  but  suffi- 
ciently true  to  herself  to  feel  when  she  had 
done  wrong,  and  with  ingenuous  simplicity  to 
confess  the  error.  But  what  is  all  this  to  me? 
She  is  placed  far,  very  far,  beyond  me  in  the 
world,  and  *  fortune,'  or  rather  want  of  for- 
tune, —  'bids  me  blush  to  look  on  her.'  But, 
oh!  —  She  is  beautiful  as  Spring,  and  roman- 
tic as  the  young  enthusiast's  dream." 

It  may  not  be  amiss,  in  this  connection,  to 
throw  some  light  on  Payne's  love  affairs.  He 
was  never  married.    He  had  been  engaged  to 

133 


a  beautiful  and  accomplished  young  lady  in 
Boston,  but  the  engagement  was  broken  by 
the  interference  of  her  parents.  Mr.  Harri- 
son tells  us  that  the  unsuccessful  termination 
of  this  affair  so  affected  Payne  that  he  re- 
mained single  throughout  his  life.  Such  a 
condition  seems  at  variance  with  his  nature. 
Evidence,  moreover,  tends  to  show  that  Payne 
was  not  unlike  the  proverbial  sailor,  with  his 
"girl  in  every  port."  This  is  not  surprising, 
for  he  was  a  social  lion  wherever  he  went. 
His  youth,  vivacity  and  attractiveness  won 
him  many  friends  and  much  attention,  and  his 
stays  at  the  various  cities  he  visited,  were  not 
unlike  the  sojourns  of  a  conquering  hero. 
"New  friends,"  writes  Payne,  "dining  parties 
and  ladies'  parties,  throw  me  into  a  state  of 
miscellany;  all  the  et  cetera  of  frothy  and 
insincere  fashionable  attention  keep  me  in- 
cessantly busied  by  that  active  employment 
which  consists  of  doing  nothing."  Certain 
it  is  that  the  number  of  the  opposite  sex  with 
whom,  at  various  times,  he  believed  himself 
desperately  In  love  could  not  be  counted  on 
the  fingers  of  both  hands.  Let  us  consider 
his  own  ideas  on  the  marriage  question,  and 
further,  see  how  he  felt  about  his  Baltimore 

134 


affair,  as  explained  to  Miss  Caroline  Crafts  In 
December,  sometime  after  Its  termination:  — 

"You  have  descanted  with  force  and  elo- 
quence on  a  subject  which  Is  of  much  conse- 
quence; since  I  am  approaching  the  time  when 
it  shall  be  proper  for  me  to  select  a  female 
friend  who  may  be  my  companion  and  adviser 
for  the  rest  of  my  life.  You  erroneously  sup- 
pose that  I  have  made  that  selection,  and  de- 
rive your  belief  from  some  declarations  In 
my  last  concerning  a  lady  In  Baltimore.  You 
even  proceed  to  warn  me  against  the  danger 
of  a  premature  choice,  and  advise  me  to  wait 
until  time  and  study  shall  have  Improved  my 
mind,  settled  my  fluctuating  feelings  and  dis- 
ciplined me  not  only  Into  a  sedate,  but  (if  such 
a  thing  Is  possible)  elegant  gentleman. 

"My  expressions  (expressions  of  hope  and 
regret  I  mean)  concerning  the  Baltimore  lady 
were  sincere;  but  they  proceeded  from  the 
heart  and  not  the  judgment.  Miss  G  *****  Is 
a  fine  girl;  she  has,  like  a  lute,  all  the  passive 
powers  of  musick  in  her,  hut  it  requires  a  mas- 
ter's hand  to  bring  them  forth.  I  know  myself 
well  enough  to  be  certain  that  I  do  not  possess 
that  skill,  and  should  I  undertake  the  delicate 
task  and  produce  discord  Instead  of  harmony, 

135 


I  should  hate  the  instrument  and  despise  my- 
self for  failing. 

"I  know  how  many  obstacles  there  are  to 
prevent  me  from  ever  forming  a  connection 
like  that  concerning  which  you  warn  me.  My 
graceless  exterior  is  the  first  of  these;  but 
altho'  a  sound  mind  might  dispense  with  per- 
sonal beauty,  there  is  another  thing,  and  that 
is  a  competent  fortune,  —  which  it  would  be 
absurd  to  throw  out  of  the  question.  Money 
is  essential,  not  only  to  comfort,  but  respect. 
Without  money,  wit  is  folly,  and  learning 
dulness;  With  it,  the  merest  blockhead  may 
become  an  *  oracle.' 

"Gold  buys  genius,  and  no  churl  will  rail 
When  feasts  are  brilliant,  that  a  pun  is  stale: 
Tip  wit  with  gold,  each  shaft  with  shouts  is 

flown ;  — 
He  drinks  champagne,  and  must  not  laugh 

alone: 
The  grape  has  point,  altho'  the  joke  be  flat; — 
Pop!   goes   the   cork  —  there's   epigram  in 

that!!" 

By  the  middle  of  September  Payne  was 
back  in  New  York.  His  father  had  in  the 
meantime  moved  there,  and  had  again  estab- 
lished himself  in  the  business  of  education. 

136 


Payne's  career  on  the  stage,  as  we  have 
seen,  had  been  varied.  "I  have  been  wander- 
ing," he  writes  to  Robert  Treat  Paine,  Jr.,  on 
October  6,  1810,  "from  one  end  of  the  the- 
atrical hemisphere  to  the  other,  with  various 
success.  Sometimes  I  found  my  pockets  so 
full  of  money  that  they  would  burst,  and 
then  again  my  funds  would  sink  so  low  that 
I  could  not  scrape  together  enough  to  pay 
for  sewing  up  the  rents  which  my  affluence  had 
created.  I  have  been  actively  and  pleasantly 
employed,  however,  in  observing  men  and 
manners,  and  you  know  the  interior  of  a  play- 
house, if  it  does  not  present  an  epitome  of  the 
whole  world,  shews  at  least  that  part  of  it 
which  is  most  base  and  ludicrous.  It  is  not 
half  so  pleasing  to  unravel  the  mysterious 
causes  of  the  thunder  and  lightning  of  the  the- 
ater, and  to  find  out  what  brings  the  ghost 
up  from  the  bottom  of  the  stage,  and  what 
lets  him  down  again,  as  it  is  to  explore  the 
secret  springs  which  actuate  the  mock  Jupi- 
ters  of  the  drama,  who  dress  themselves  out 
in  paper  crowns  and  fancy  they  are  real 
emperors." 

It  was  now  time  to  think  of  engagements  for 
the  coming  season.    Payne's  plan  was  to  make 

137 


this  tour  his  last,  previous  to  his  departure  for 
England  in  the  spring,  where  he  hoped  to 
spend  eighteen  months  in  study  and  obser- 
vation. Although  he  planned  to  present  a 
set  of  entirely  new  characters,  he  met  with 
little  success  in  his  search  for  engagements. 
Finally  in  November  an  engagement  was 
offered  to  him  in  Charleston,  S.  C,  to  com- 
mence in  February  with  the  race  week.  Of 
this  he  writes  to  Benjamin  Pollard  on  No- 
vember 13,  1810: —  _ 

"The  terms  are  so  unpromising  that  I  must 
reject  them,  altho'  I  am  invited  at  the  most 
propitious  part  of  the  season.  The  races  in 
Charleston  concentrate  all  the  scatter'd  no- 
bility (who  are  at  other  times  dispers'd,  each 
lord  on  his  plantation)  —  to  one  point  —  and 
that  point  is  the  city.  Men  of  pleasure, 
sharpers,  horse  jockies,  and  puppies  who  wish 
to  dash,  —  are  also  attracted  thither  by  the 
gaiety  and  dissipation  of  the  time,  and  fly 
into  every  splendid  amusement,  —  like  insects 
who  flutter  around  the  taper  and  perish  in  its 
blaze.  That  the  Drama  which  is  capable  of 
conveying  instruction  in  the  sweetest  form 
should  be  degraded  to  a  mere  pastime  indicates 

138 


equal  depravity  in  the  taste  and  morals  of  its 
supporters.  But  this  depravity  exists;  and 
since  there  is  no  help  for  it  Managers  must 
depend  upon  the  idle,  profligate  and  vulgar. 
The  ^judicious  few '  are  very  few  indeed.  They 
are  always  to  be  found  in  a  theater,  like 
flowers  in  a  desert,  but  they  are  nowhere 
sufHciently  numerous  to  fill  one." 

Completely  discouraged,  Payne  cast  about 
for  some  new  enterprise  to  replenish  his  de- 
pleted fortune.  The  bookselling  business  was 
suggested,  and  after  careful  consideration  of 
the  scheme,  he  writes  to  P.  H.  Nicklin  on 
December  24,  1810:  — 

"I  have  finally  determined  as  soon  as  pos- 
sible to  resign  my  own  profession  for  it.  What 
condition  can  be  more  futile  and  uncertain 
than  a  player's?  He  ^struts  and  frets ^  for  a 
domineering  populace,  who  cannot  discern 
the  difference  between  sound  and  sense.  Per- 
haps he  explores  the  depths  of  science,  ac- 
quires a  profound  knowledge  of  the  human 
heart,  and  for  the  application  of  his  skill,  is 
applauded  by  the  'judicious  few:'  But  he 
dies  —  and  is  forgotten.  Tho'  his  funeral  be 
honorably  attended,  those  very  admirers  who 

139 


follow  him  to  the  grave,  feel,  at  that  moment, 
a  damning  kind  of  regret,  which  prompts  him 
to  wish  he  had  been  something  better  —  His 
memory  perishes  long  before  the  marble  slab 
which  covers  him! 

"As  to  myself,  I  never  shall  make  a  for- 
tune whilst  I  remain  a  player.  Suppose  I  was 
long  exiled  from  employ  by  sickness,  or  should 
lose  a  limb,  what  would  my  Imperial  Majesty 
do  then?  —  No  breeze  is  half  so  variable  as 
the  ^aura  popularis,^  and  since  fame  alone 
produces  money  in  this  business,  one  may  cal- 
culate on  famine  after  plenty  as  certainly  as 
Pharaoh's  monitor,  without  his  inspiration. 
Our  allurements  to  extravagance  are  so  fas- 
cinating that  it  positively  requires  the  self 
denial  and  frugality  of  a  Joseph  so  to  appro- 
priate a  flood  of  good  fortune  as  to  keep  off 
the  ruin  which  commonly  succeeds  it. 

"I  should  only  tire  you  by  detailing  my 
whole  plan  here,  but  I  must  state,  before  I 
take  my  leave,  that  I  have  just  projected,  and 
mean  immediately  to  get  under  way,  a  kind  of 
reading  room  entitled  the  'Literary  Exchange,' 
which  is  meant  for  a  stepping-stone  to  a  future 
bookstore.  When  I  get  this  reading  room 
a-going,   it  can  be  managed  by  my  father, 

140 


while  I  am  attending  to  my  theatrical  pur- 
suits abroad,  which  cannot  be  given  up,  till 
I  shall  make  something  important  out  of  the 
*  Literary  Exchange.'" 

The  project  of  the  Literary  Exchange  was 
immediately  launched.  The  times,  however, 
were  cloudy,  subscribers  were  few,  and  the 
eight  hundred  dollars  he  was  able  to  collect 
was  scarcely  adequate  for  fitting  out  the  insti- 
tution, yet  the  idea  was  not  entirely  given  up. 

Again  the  Stage  seemed  his  only  salvation. 
Could  he  but  struggle  on  until  the  tide  turned 
or  the  managers  became  more  lenient,  Payne 
felt  that  he  could  repeat  his  former  successes. 
On  January  23,  181 1,  we  find  him  in  despair, 
thus  appealing  for  aid  to  John  Jacob  Astor.  — 

"I  am  in  want  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars, 
and  having  no  real  property  to  pledge  cannot, 
without  any  prospect  of  success,  apply  to  such 
people  as  gain  their  living  by  the  loan  of 
money.  None  of  my  intimate  friends  are 
wealthy  enough  to  aid  me,  and  after  consid- 
ering for  a  long  time  all  the  possible  means  of 
securing  what  I  wish,  I  have  made  up  my 
mind  to  solicit  your  assistance,  certain  that 
you  will  oblige  me,  If  convenient;    and  that 

141 


even  should  circumstances  compel  you  to  re- 
ject my  application,  you  will  put  a  proper 
construction  on  the  motives  whence  it  arose, 
and  respect  the  feelings  which  you  cannot 
gratify. 

"My  pride  will  not  allow  me  to  ask  this 
accommodation  as  a  deed  of  charity,  or  with- 
out offering,  at  least,  the  same  advantages 
that  would  result  from  a  deposit  in  the  bank. 
I  can  pledge  my  honor  that  it  shall  be  paid 
in  twelve,  eighteen,  twenty-four,  and  thirty 
months,  with  any  interest  you  choose  to  put 
upon  it;  and  I  will  get  an  insurance  made 
upon  my  life,  which  will  remove  the  possibility 
of  your  losing  anything,  in  case  I  should  die 
before  the  term  expires. 

"You  will  perhaps  wonder  what  has  thrown 
me  so  much  out  of  funds  as  to  render  such  a 
loan  desirable.  I  can  explain  this  in  a  few 
words. 

"When  I  first  went  upon  the  Stage,  I  as- 
sumed all  my  father's  debts,  which  amounted 
to  three  thousand  dollars.  I  took  upon  my- 
self the  direction  of  all  our  family  concerns, 
furnished  a  house  here,  and  thus  added  a 
heavy  and  constant  expense  to  the  current 
expenses  of  my  profession.    My  profits  until 

142 


the  arrival  of  Mr.  Cooke  ^  were  adequate  to 
every  demand.  In  less  than  two  years,  I  re- 
ceived thirteen  thousand  dollars,  which  I  de- 
voted, as  fast  as  it  came  in,  to  expenses  and 
old  debts,  as  they  were  called  for.  But  when 
I  returned  to  New  York  last  September,  I 
found  the  Theater  shut  against  me.  Soon 
after,  Mr.  Cooke  arrived.  The  managers  of 
this  and  the  other  Theaters,  who  have  all 
been  prejudiced  by  improper  means  against 
me,  were  delighted  to  possess  some  credible 
excuse  for  keeping  me  off  the  Stage,  and  I 
have,  of  course,  suffered  the  bitter  conse- 
quences of  their  opposition.  But  when 
Cooke's  novelty  is  over  and  he  shall  have 
play'd  out  his  engagements,  this  excuse  will 
no  longer  avail.  I  have  numerous  friends 
in  almost  every  theatrical  city,  and  can  fight 
my  way.  My  object  is,  first,  to  go  to  Charles- 
ton, where  Cooke  is  not  to  play,  and,  if  terms 
are  not  offered  me,  to  force  myself  on  the 
Stage  there.  I  can  then  arrive  at  Philadel- 
phia after  Cooke's  departure,  and  must  take 
the  same  course  in  that  city,  in  Baltimore  and 

*  George  Frederick  Cooke.  English  actor.  Born  in  1756. 
First  appeared  in  America  at  New  York  in  November,  18 10. 
Died  September  26,  181 1.  Cooke's  popularity  and  success 
suffered  greatly  from  his  excessive  use  of  liquor. 


in  Boston.  Here,  where  Cooper,  who  is  de- 
servedly the  God  of  the  people's  idolatry  and 
a  man  of  the  most  inflexible  resolution,  is  pre- 
dominate, no  exertions  of  mine  in  that  way 
can  succeed. 

"The  experiment  which  I  contemplate  may 
appear  to  you  a  wild  and  uncertain  one,  — 
but  I  have  tried  it  once,  and  with  success,  in 
Baltimore.  The  consequence  was  that  the 
managers  there  have  ever  since  made  the 
first  advances  toward  engaging  me,  whenever 
I  have  visited  that  city.  As  this  has  happened 
in  one  instance,  I  know  not  why  it  should  not 
in  others. 

"I  think,  when  I  can  resume  my  profes- 
sional business,  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  my 
realizing  enough  to  fulfill,  in  the  time  herein 
proposed  for  the  payment  of  this  loan,  which 
I  solicit,  all  the  conditions  on  which  I  propose 
to  receive  it,  with  perfect  safety  to  myself, 
and  without  encroaching  upon  my  necessities. 
My  dresses,  which  have  cost  me  upward  of 
two  thousand  dollars,  are  all  paid  for;  my 
house  is  furnished,  and  a  great  portion  of  the 
claims  on  me  are  cancelled.  Therefore,  with 
half  of  my  former  success,  I  can  realize  double 
the  emolument. 

144 


"Consider,  for  a  moment,  the  peculiar  diffi- 
culties of  my  situation.  The  claims  against 
me  are  great  and  constant;  and  I  have  hith- 
erto been  compelled  to  appropriate  my  money 
as  it  was  received  to  old  family  debts,  and 
current  expenses.  This  circumstance,  com- 
bined withsomeextravaganceonmy  part  which 
ought  to  have  been  avoided,  has  prevented 
me  from  laying  up  anything;  while  the  abrupt 
and  unexpected  arrival  of  Cooke  has  put  a 
sudden  stop  to  my  receipts,  without  lessen- 
ing the  demands  against  me.  When  an  adult 
whose  prospects  are  fair  is  pinched  for  money, 
he  can  derive  aid  from  notes  of  accommoda- 
tion. But  I  am  a  minor.  My  note  is  not 
worth  a  farthing.  If  I  have  no  money,  bright 
as  my  future  hopes  may  be,  there  is  not  a 
bank,  not  a  broker,  that  will  lend  me  money. 
I  must  wait  till  I  can  earn  it.  With  an  in- 
teresting family  dependent  on  my  labors,  can 
there  be  anything  more  distressing  than 
destitution  under  such  disadvantages  ?  Others 
expect  me  to  act  with  the  promptness  of  a 
man,  while  my  resources  are  but  little  more 
than  the  resources  of  a  boy! 

"The  sum  which  I  solicit  will  be  appropri- 
ated in  this  way,  ^500  will  be  paid  away  for 

HS 


some  old  claims  on  my  father,  ^600  will  be 
devoted  to  the  current  expenses  of  the  family, 
and  ^400  I  shall  take  abroad  to  bear  my  ex- 
penses in  the  project  which  I  have  detailed 
above.  In  my  absence,  the  Reading  Room 
will  be  conducted  by  my  father,  and  proba- 
bly the  subscription  list  may  be  increased 
daily,  so  as  to  make  that  business  eventually 
profitable." 

As  a  business  proposition  this  scheme  did 
not  appeal  to  Mr.  Astor;  nor  was  he  seeking  to 
cover  himself  with  glory  by  lending  ^1500  to 
a  minor  without  security,  and  Payne  was  un- 
successful in  his  quest. 

George  Frederick  Cooke,  whose  name  is 
mentioned  above,  had  become  the  idol  of  the 
people  and  Payne  was  desirous  of  meeting 
him;  but  as  no  one  offered  to  introduce  him 
he  took  occasion  to  call  and  introduce  him- 
self. Cooke  mentions  the  call  in  his  journal,* 
and  seems  to  have  been  very  favorably  im- 
pressed, for  of  Payne  he  writes:  "I  thought 
him  a  polite,  sensible  youth,  and  the  reverse 
of  *our'  young  Roscius." 

*  Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  George  Frederick  Cooke.  Wm. 
Dunlap.    New  York.    18 13.    Vol.  II,  Pg.  184. 

146 


The  friendship  thus  started,  continued  to 
grow.  Toward  the  latter  part  of  January 
Cooke's  popularity  began  to  wane,  and  Payne 
was  invited  by  the  managers  to  act  with  him. 
"Notwithstanding  the  kindness  with  which 
he  treated  Master  Payne,"  says  Mr.  Dunlap  in 
his  life  of  Cooke,  "and  the  terms  of  approba- 
tion with  which  he  spoke  of  him,  —  to  have 
a  boy  called  in  to  support  him,  wounded  his 
pride  so  deeply,  that  he  could  not  conceal  his 
irritation,  or  its  cause." 

Cooke's  attitude  deeply  hurt  Payne,  for 
he  had  been  induced  to  accept  the  terms  of 
the  engagement,  which  were  not  to  his  liking, 
more  to  improve  every  chance  of  contemp- 
lating this  great  actor  than  in  the  expectation 
of  pecuniary  reward.  Hoping  to  adjust  mat- 
ters, and  above  all  not  to  lose  his  friend, 
Payne  hastened  to  write  to  Cooke.  — 

"Mr.  Price  says  that  you  will  not  perform 
again  till  your  return  from  Philadelphia. 
After  the  flattering  assurances  which  I  have 
received  of  your  desire  to  aiford  me  all  the  aid 
in  that  way  which  it  is  in  your  power  to  give 
I  cannot  believe  that  you  decline  playing  from 
any  wish  to  gall  my  pride  or  lessen  my  pecun- 

147 


iary  profits.  I  have  told  Mr.  Price  that  your 
not  appearing  must  make  a  difference  in  the 
current  receipts  and  have  requested  him  to 
vary  in  consequence  my  terms.  He  declares 
that  he  will  not  do  so,  and  adds  that  he  is  of 
the  opinion  that  you  are  in  reality  well,  but 
that  my  engagement  had  induced  you  to 
feign  sickness.  Forgive  me  for  troubling 
you  thus.  If  you  are  sick,  Mr.  Price  will 
need  extraneous  aid  and  ought  to  pay  for  it. 
If  you  are  not,  and  /  am  the  cause  of  your  not 
wishing  to  appear,  I  promise  to  relinquish  my 
engagement,  and  shall  require  no  explanation, 
but  remain  as  ever,  with  the  highest  respect 
for  your  talents,  Your  friend.  Etc." 

Cooke  persistently  feigned  illness  whenever 
he  was  announced  to  play  with  Payne,  and 
only  once  did  they  appear  together,  when  on 
March  i,  1811,  Cooke  played  Lear  to  Payne's 
Edgar,  for  the  benefit  of  the  latter. 

The  proceeds  of  this  engagement  afforded 
but  temporary  relief.  It  was  as  hard  after- 
ward as  before  for  Payne  to  secure  engage- 
ments, and  the  next  few  months  were  spent 
in  going  from  place  to  place  in  the  hope  that 
something  would  turn  up.    During  this  period 

148 


Payne  played  a  five  days'  engagement  at  Al- 
bany, opening  on  April  5,  as  Octavian  in  The 
Mountaineers.  During  the  engagement  he  and 
his  company  gave  Hamlet,  and  it  is  probable 
that  this  is  the  first  ^  cast  of  the  play  to 
appear  in  Albany. 

To  his  friend  Mr.  Gwynn,  who  suggested 
that  he  should  come  to  Baltimore,  Payne 
writes  on  August  14:  — 

"Why  should  I  come  to  Baltimore  in  pref- 
erence to  any  other  place,  when  misery  and 
mortification  meet  me  at  every  turn?  But 
my  soul  is  like  the  potter's  clay,  —  it  hardens 
as  the  flame  grows  fiercer.  I  am,  however, 
so  near  Richmond  that  I  must  go  there  first. 
My  pride,  too,  is  interested.  I  am  disposed 
to  appear  fearlessly  among  the  players  and 
shew  them  that  I  will  not  retreat  after  being 
once  foiled.  Possibly  I  may  there  get  an  en- 
gagement by  some  means.  At  any  rate,  I  can 
meet  and  resist  calumny,  and  I  will  sacrifice 
my  life  sooner  than  my  honest  pride." 

In  September  Payne  made  a  tour  through 
the  "rude  and  desolate"  mountains  of  Vir- 

*  Players  of  a  Century.  A  Record  of  the  Albany  Stage. 
H.  P.  Phelps.    Albany,  1880.     Page  34. 

149 


ginia.  On  the  twenty-fifth  he  arrived  in 
Baltimore  to  make  a  final  effort  to  secure 
engagements  for  the  coming  season.  To  his 
petition  the  majority  of  the  stockholders  of 
the  Baltimore  Theater  gave  their  consent  to 
his  use  of  the  house  could  he  gather  together 
a  company  to  play  there  during  the  fall  and 
winter,  adding  their  signatures  to  a  request 
to  Messrs.  Warren  &  Wood  that  they  grant 
the  use  of  the  scenery  on  reasonable  terms. 
Unfortunately  this  plan  fell  through.  Better 
fortune,  however,  awaited  him,  and  a  letter 
to  his  sister  Eloise  on  November  ii,  shows 
that  the  tide  had,  at  least  for  the  moment, 
turned: — 

"The  difficulties  which  have  given  you  so 
much  uneasiness  are  disappearing,  and  I 
have  two  engagements  now,  —  one  for  twelve 
nights  in  Philadelphia  and  the  other  for  the 
same  term  in  Boston,  which  must  yield  me  a 
handsome  profit  —  enough  to  carry  us  thro 
another  year.  In  addition  to  this  I  am  en- 
gaged in  some  literary  work  which  when  com- 
pleated,  must  produce  me  a  comfortable  in- 
come and  will  not  be  attended  with  any  risk. 
I  play  in  Philadelphia  the  first  week  in  De- 

150 


cember;  and  whatever  you  can  conveniently 
spare  before  that  time  you  will  oblige  me  by 
sending  to  our  father;  for  myself  I  can  scrape 
along  well  enough  —  the  kindness  of  your  offer 
to  me  shall  never  be  forgotten,  altho  I  do 
not  avail  myself  of  It. 

"With  regard  to  the  other  points  in  ques- 
tion I  am  determined  not  to  relinquish  my 
present  profession  until  I  shall  have  galn'd  a 
competency  from  my  exertions  in  it;  —  be- 
cause the  pursuit  of  that  object  stimulated 
me  to  undertake  it  in  the  beginning,  and  the 
attainment  of  that  object  will  be  its  only  jus- 
tification in  the  end. 

"If  I  could  realize  a  moderate  fortune  as  a 
'Traglclan,'  that  fortune  would  give  me  more 
than  a  *  pasteboard  triumph,'  and  would  place 
my  secession  in  such  a  point  of  view  as  to  ad- 
vance my  prospects  in  any  other  enterprise 
which  it  might  be  expedient  to  undertake." 

It  had  been  the  agreement  that  Payne 
should  play  one  week  in  Philadelphia,  and 
then  play  a  second  engagement;  this  fact 
was  to  be  kept  a  secret  until  the  first  had 
passed  off.  For  his  second  engagement  Payne 
prepared  himself  in  a  new  set  of  characters 


consisting  of  Rolla  {Virgin  of  the  Sun), 
Orestes,  Venoni,  Alexander,  Osman  (Zara), 
and  Oronooko,  and  for  these  characters  he 
purchased  an  entire  new  wardrobe. 

He  opened  in  Philadelphia  on  December  9, 
with  Octavian.  He  had  been  led  to  believe 
that  he  would  be  given  the  holidays  for  his 
second  engagement,  but  when  after  a  few 
days  he  came  to  make  arrangements  he  was 
informed  by  Mr.  Wood,  the  manager,  that  he 
"certainly  could  not  be  so  mad  as  to  expect 
him  to  give  up  the  holidays." 

"You  must,"  added  Mr.  Wood,  "suspend 
your  engagement  during  them,  and  renew  it 
so  that  it  may  terminate  in  the  first  ten  days 
of  January."  "Before  I  wrote  the  final  an- 
swer to  Wood,  dated  on  the  twentieth,"  says 
Payne  in  a  letter  to  William  Gwynn,^  "I 
knelt  in  my  chamber  and  prayed  with  much 
earnestness  that  our  Maker  would  endow  me 
with  power  to  settle  this  matter  properly." 

The  whole  Philadelphia  affair  was  a  disap- 
pointment. After  all  the  trouble  to  which 
Payne  had  gone  to  appear  in  new  characters, 

*  Letter  to  William  Gwynn,  December  24,  181 1.  Payne 
details  the  whole  affair,  giving  copies  of  his  own  and  Mr. 
Wood's  letters. 


the  other  parts  of  only  two  were  made  ready 
by  the  manager,  and  the  rest  not  even 
cast.  In  this  as  in  other  affairs  connected 
with  the  engagement  Mr.  Wood  seems  to 
have  placed  every  obstacle  in  Payne's  way. 

Of  the  engagement  Payne  writes  in  the  same 
letter  to  Gwynn ;  — 

"My  benefit  on  Monday,  Alexander  the 
Great,  first  time,  was  ^539.  The  two  last 
nights,  seven  and  eight,  the  overplus  above 
my  real  engagement,  we  lost  ^150,  ^50  ^ 
piece,  which  I  should  think  ought  in  justice 
to  be  given  up,  but  this  ^50  has  been  charged 
against  me,  so  that  in  all  I  receive  for  all  my 
efforts,  and  as  the  end  of  all  my  hopes,  three 
hundred  dollars. 

"My  constant  prayer  is  for  fortitude.  My 
friend,  the  world  frowns  on  me,  but  God  will 
not  forsake  me.  I  feel  now,  however,  the  value 
of  every  trifling  attention  and  the  sting  of 
every  trifling  neglect." 

Soon  after  the  Philadelphia  disappointment 
Payne  returned  to  New  York,  leaving  there  on 
February  3,  to  fulfill  his  engagement  in  Boston. 
Before  going  to  Boston  he  succeeded  after 
much   bickering   in    closing    an    engagement 

153 


with  Mr.  Wood  for  his  Baltimore  house,  later 
in  the  season. 

From  Boston  Payne  wrote  to  Mrs.  R.  P. 
Air  on  March  3 :  — 

"I  am  sick  of  the  Theater  and  everything 
connected  with  it.  Two  thirds  of  the  actors 
are  as  unreal  in  private  as  they  are  in  public. 
Their  souls  like  their  triumphal  cars  are  made 
of  gilded  pasteboard.  In  less  than  two 
years  I  hope  to  take  an  eternal  farewell  of  the 
profession,  and  then,  my  dear  friend,  I  will 
assume  as  a  right  that  standing  in  society 
which  is  now  conceded  to  me  as  a  favor. ''^ 

The  Boston  engagement  was  another  finan- 
cial failure,  and  Payne  writes  of  it  to  his 
sister  Eloise  on  March  5,  1812:  — 

"My  success  here  has  been  so  inconsider- 
able, that  were  I  not  blest  with  some  trifling 
fortitude,  it  would  have  made  me,  combined 
with  other  disappointments,  wretched  beyond 
endurance  or  description." 

Now  when  everything  seemed  dark  again 
the  blackest  cloud  of  all  appeared  on  the  hori- 
zon. On  March  7,  his  father  breathed  his 
last,  and  on  receipt  of  the  news  Payne  has- 

IS4 


tened  to  New  York  to  do  what  was  In  his  power 
to  straighten  out  his  affairs.  "When  I  reached 
New  York,"  he  says  in  his  letter  to  Mrs.  Air, 
"while  my  features  were  undisturbed,  my 
heart  was  bursting.  When  I  enter'd  our 
home  and  my  eye  glanced  upon  those  objects 
every  one  of  which  brought  my  departed 
father  before  my  eyes,  reason  became  extinct 
and  I  surrendered  myself  at  once  to  tears  and 
sorrows." 

Even  from  this  last  and  greatest  affliction 
Payne  emerged  with  the  most  admirable  for- 
titude. How  really  exquisite  is  his  accept- 
ance of  his  fatel  On  March  17,  1812,  he 
thus  writes  to  the  Reverend  William  Ellery 
Channing:  — 

"Whatever  trials  I  may  be  called  to  endure 
(and  I  have  recently  seen  many,  very  many) 
I  shall  endeavor  to  sustain  the  worst  that  can 
happen,  with  firmness  and  submission  and  to 
remember  in  the  midst  of  misery  that  *  when 
Heaven  afflicts,  'tis  virtue  to  endure.'" 

It  is  probable  that  at  this  time,  the  project 
of  the  Literary  Exchange,  which  had  been 
carried  on  in  a  small  way  by  Payne's  father, 
was   definitely  abandoned. 

In  April  Payne  fulfilled  his  Baltimore  en- 
155 


gagement.  His  financial  success  was  only 
moderate,  and  the  engagement  was  rendered 
most  unsatisfactory  by  Mr.  Wood's  refusing, 
on  the  fulfillment  of  the  contract,  to  pay  him 
the  sum  ^354-75,  to  which  he  considered  him- 
self entitled.  The  matter  was  finally  ad- 
justed by  Payne's  playing  one  extra  night, 
upon  which  the  amount  claimed  by  him  was 
paid. 

During  a  private  visit  to  Baltimore  in 
June,  1812,  the  printing  office  of  his  friend 
Mr.  Alexander  Hanson,  who  edited  and  pub- 
lished The  Federal  Republican,  was  destroyed 
by  a  political  mob.  Payne  had  never  for- 
gotten the  kindness  of  Mr.  Hanson  on  his 
first  visit  to  Baltimore,  and  he  at  once  offered 
his  assistance  in  the  re-establishment  of  the 
paper.  His  offer  was  promptly  accepted,  and 
it  is  probable  that  the  service  he  rendered  was 
of  the  greatest  help.  In  October,  when  things 
were  again  running  smoothly,  Payne  was  of- 
fered an  important  position  on  the  paper.  Al- 
though he  had  been  living  on  borrowed  money 
ever  since  June,  Payne  decided  against  ac- 
cepting the  offer.  He  explains  his  refusal  in 
a  letter  to  George  Richards,  Jr.,  on  October 
24,   181 2: — 

156 


"You  cannot  need  to  be  assured  that  my 
reasons  for  declining  the  offer  are  totally  dis- 
connected with  objections  to  the  situation, 
which  I  should  be  proud  to  occupy,  —  but 
they  arise  from  the  load  of  embarrassment 
which  I  am  compelled  to  remove,  previous  to 
my  permanently  settling  in  any  way." 

There  had  been  working  for  some  time,  in 
the  theatrical  world,  a  scheme  of  opposition 
to  the  "Trust."  In  July,  William  Twaits 
accepted  the  management  of  the  "Opposition 
Theaters,"  and  from  him  Payne  endeavored 
to  secure  engagements  for  the  fall  season. 
It  is  probable  that  he  met  with  some  success, 
and  that  he  fulfilled  minor  contracts  (and 
further  gave  recitations,  relieved  by  instru- 
mental music)  in  several  of  the  southern 
cities  during  the  Fall. 

In  December,  through  the  friendship  and 
generosity  of  Mr.  Hanson  and  Mr.  Meredith, 
with  the  aid  of  several  other  friends  and  ad- 
mirers, the  opportunity  that  he  had  long 
sought  for  was  given  to  Payne.  A  purse  of 
$2000  was  raised  for  the  purpose  of  affording 
him  a  year's  stay  in  Europe,  so  that  he  might 
have  a  wider  field  for  the  exercise  of  his  talents 
157 


and  better  opportunities  for  their  improve- 
ment by  study  and  travel.  The  trip  was  in- 
tended to  be  merely  one  of  improvement,  and 
Payne  purposed  to  remain  just  long  enough 
to  create  some  curiosity  on  his  return  to 
America,  when  he  intended  to  make  a  fare- 
well tour  of  the  theaters,  and  quit  the  Stage 
forever.  On  February  27,  18 13,  he  thus  writes 
to  the  Reverend  T.  Houlbrouke:  — 

"Absence  will  give  a  zest  to  my  re-appear- 
ance in  America,  leisure,  study  and  observa- 
tion will  enable  me  to  supply  the  defects  of  a 
superficial  education,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  pave  the  way  for  a  future  establishment  as 
a  bookseller  in  America." 

It  was,  then,  with  keen  anticipation  of  the 
new  world  that  lay  before  him  that  on  the 
seventeenth  of  January,  18 13,  Payne  set  sail 
for  Liverpool  in  the  brig  Catherine  Ray. 


158 


The  reading  of  old  letters  is  ever  a  delight- 
ful pastime,  and  the  pleasure  derived  is  en- 
hanced in  proportion  to  the  prominence  at- 
tained by  the  writer  or  the  topic  on  which 
he  writes.  In  a  measure  we  become  despotic 
over  Time  and  are  permitted  to  enter  into 
the  secrets  and  very  souls  of  the  great  men 
of  the  Past. 

The  early  letters  of  John  Howard  Payne 
form  a  striking  example  of  this.  Nothing  is 
concealed,  —  his  thoughts,  his  feelings,  his 
hopes,  plans  and  disappointments,  all  invite 
our  inspection  and  lead  us  through  the  maze 
of  conjecture  to  an  understanding  of  his  true 
character. 

We  find  Payne  to  have  been  a  youth  of  a 
proud  and  extremely  sensitive  nature,  hasty 
in  forming  plans  and  prompt  and  zealous  in 
carrying  them  out;  a  youth,  quick-tempered, 
generous  to  a  fault,  extravagant,  and  yet  his 
first  and  warmest  wish,  a  desire  to  relieve  his 
father  from  the  burden  of  supporting  the 
family. 

At  the  age  of  thirteen,  thrown  on  his  own 
159 


resources,  and  almost  immediately  becoming 
the  center  of  an  admiring  throng,  it  is  little 
wonder  that  his  friends  were  apprehensive  of 
the  ultimate  outcome. 

At  fourteen  he  had  attracted  considerable 
attention  by  his  acting  and  especially  by  his 
dramatic  criticisms.  At  sixteen  he  had 
written  most  of  the  verse  published  by  him  in 
1813  as  "Juvenile  Poems,"  and  had  also 
made  his  first  attempts  at  play-writing.  In 
other  words,  Payne,  although  so  young,  had  al- 
ready foreshadowed  the  chief  activities  of  a 
long  and  eventful  life  —  his  acting,  dramatic 
criticism,  song-writing  and  his  plays. 

His  acquaintance  with  Dr.  Nott  seems  one 
of  the  most  fortunate  occurrences  of  his  life, 
for  thus  proper  guidance  was  given  at  the 
period  when  it  was  most  needed. 

In  the  frequent  excursions  that  displeased 
Mr.  Seaman  I  can  find  nothing  noticeably 
worthy  of  condemnation,  and  it  will  have 
been  noticed  that  in  nearly  every  case  Payne 
was  under  the  care  of  some  responsible  person 
or  was  absent  by  permission  of  either  Dr. 
Nott  or  his  father.  The  friction  with  Mr. 
Seaman  seems  rather  to  have  been  caused  pri- 
marily from  the  fact  that  Payne  failed  to 

160 


show  a  sense  of  obligation  to  his  benefac- 
tor in  proportion  to  the  liberality  of  that 
gentleman. 

That  Payne  did  not  achieve  a  lasting  fame 
as  a  great  actor  is  due  largely  to  the  fact  that 
from  the  time  he  entered  professionally  upon 
a  theatrical  career,  he  regarded  the  stage  solely 
as  a  means  of  discharging  his  debts.  Had  that 
love  of  the  theater  which  first  led  Payne  to 
it  as  an  amateur  remained  the  same  when  he 
came  to  it  as  a  professional  his  name  might 
have  gone  down  in  history  as  one  of  the  fore- 
most actors  that  America  has  produced. 

Payne's  later  career  "was  the  unhappy  one 
of  disappointment,  a  history  of  baffled  aims,  a 
life  nowise  proportioned  to  boyish  promise."^ 
His  achievements  were  the  less  remarkable 
the  older  he  grew.  His  struggles  were  like  the 
"flutter  of  a  bird  against  its  bars,  trying  them 
all  in  turn,  and  all  in  vain."^ 

Payne  did  not  return  to  America  from 
Europe  until  1832.  "Complimentary  bene- 
fits in  Boston,  New  Orleans,  and  New  York 
awaited  him,  public  receptions  and  dinners, 

*  From  the  Oration  by  Leigh  Robinson  at  the  unveiling 
of  the  monument  at  Oak  Hill  Cemetery,  June  9,  1883. 
2  Ibid. 

161 


for  all  which  he  returned  his  acknowledg- 
ments in  the  graceful  terms  which  never 
failed  him.  But  the  projects  which  thence- 
forth engaged  his  attention  were  the  desperate 
aftergame  of  life;  international  reviews, 
sacred  history,  Cherokee  Indians,  and  what 
not,  —  projects  of  a  fertile  rather  than  a  prac- 
tical brain.  Finally  came  the  consulship  to 
Tunis  in  1842,  recalled  in  1845,  renewed  in 
1 85 1.  There  amid  the  dusky  aspects  and  the 
fallen  columns  of  that  ancient  land,  there  in 
the  shadow  of  the  broken  and  dejected  col- 
umn of  his  own  life,"  ^  Payne  passed  away 
on  the  9th  of  April,  1852,  in  the  sixty-second 
year  of  his  life. 

*  From  the  Oration  by  Leigh  Robinson  at  the  unveiling 
of  the  monument  at  Oak  Hill  Cemetery,  June  9,  1883. 


162 


BIBLIOGRAPHY 

Original  manuscript  letter  book,  in  the  hand 
writing  of  John  Howard  Payne,  containing  copies 
of  letters  written  by  him  from  1804  to  18 19. 

Original  letters  and  manuscript  of  poems  in 
the  possession  of  Union  College. 

The  Thespian  Mirror,  —  A  Periodical  Publi- 
cation, Comprising  a  Collection  of  Dramatic 
Biography,  Theatrical  Criticism,  Miscellaneous 
Literature,  Poetry,  etc.  By  John  Howard  Payne. 
New  York,  Southwick  &  Hardcastle,  1806. 

The  first  number  of  the  Thespian  Mirror  made 
its  appearance  on  December  28,  1805,  the  four- 
teenth and  last  on  May  31,  1806.  The  four- 
teenth number  has  become  an  extreme  rarity, 
there  being  but  five  sets  known  containing  this 
number.  The  set  in  the  author's  possession  is 
complete  and  was  formerly  in  the  library  of 
Philip  Hone,  at  one  time  Mayor  of  New  York. 

The  Pastime.  —  A  periodical  issued  by  John 
Howard  Payne  while  a  student  at  Union  College. 
The  first  number  made  its  appearance  on  Feb- 
ruary 21,  1807,  and  the  thirty-sixth  and  last,  on 
June  18,  1808.  The  set  in  the  possession  of  the 
author  is  complete. 

Memoirs  of  the  Life  of  George  Frederick  Cooke. 
Wm.  Dunlap.    New  York,  1813. 

163 


Memoirs  of  John  Howard  Payne,  the  American 
Roscius;  with  Criticisms  of  his  Acting,  in  the 
various  theaters  of  America,  England  and  Ireland. 
London,  1815. 

This  is  the  first  published  sketch  of  the  early 
life  of  Payne,  and  while  the  volume  contains  much 
of  value  it  is  chiefly  made  up  of  transcripts  of 
articles  dealing  with  Payne's  acting. 

The  New  York  Mirror.  —  November  24,  1832. 

The  New  York  Mirror.  —  December  i,  1832. 

The  articles  appearing  in  the  Mirror  under  the 
above  dates,  written  by  Mr.  Theo.  S.  Fay  are 
perhaps  the  most  authentic  accounts  of  Payne's 
life  that  have  as  yet  appeared. 

Players  of  a  Century.  —  A  Record  of  the  Al- 
bany Stage.    H.  P.  Phelps.    Albany,  1880. 

John  Howard  Payne,  Dramatist,  Poet,  Actor 
and  Author  of  "  Home,  Sweet  Home."  His  Life 
and  Writings.  By  Gabriel  Harrison.  Philadel- 
phia, 1885. 

John  Howard  Payne.  A  Biographical  Sketch 
of  the  Author  of  "Home,  Sweet  Home."  By 
Charles  H.  Brainard.    Washington,  D.  C,  1885. 

The  Mirror  of  Taste,  and  Dramatic  Censor.  — 
Philadelphia,  1810-1811. 


164 


N*.  I. 

THE 

THESPIAN  MIllROIl 

SATIRDAV    EVENING,    DECEMBER  2S,    1305. 

(€o  tljt  public. 

"  7o  r::ake  the  soul  bij  tender  strokes  of  art. 
"  To  ri.7«f  tficgenhdi  and  to  mend  the  Item  (, 
"  To  make  mankind  in  conscious  virtue  hold, 
"  Live  <*er  each  scene,  aud  t}e  vjfud  thcu  behold  ; 
*'  For  this  the  Tragic  muae  Jirst  trod  ike  stage, 
"  Commanding  tears,  to  stream  thro^  ev'rtj  age, 
"  Tyrants  no  more  their  savage  nature  kept, 
"  And  foes  to  virtue,  luonderd  how  tliey  wept .'"' 


IN  presenting  the-  piesent  sheet  to  the  enlij-^hteiied  citizen? 
of  NEW-YORK,  as  a  specimen  in  matter  and  manner  of  a  work 
which  on  s'jHicient  encouracrement  will  be  issued  in  tiiis 
metropolis,  the  editor  would  observe  that  it  is  proposed  to 
comprehend  a  colh'otion  of  interesting  documents  relative 
to  the  STAGE,  and  its  performers;  chiefly  intended  to  pro- 
mote the  interests  of  the  AMERICAN  DRAMA,  and  to  erauicute 
false  impressions  respecting  the  nature,  objects,  design  and 
tendency  of  theatrical  amusements. 

It  cannot  be  denied  that  the  stage,  is  cu^culated  for  pur- 
poses, at  once,  the  most  laudable  and  usefa).  Fronj  its 
glowing  and  impressive  representations,  the  Tyvanc  is 
induced  to  relax  his  wonted  severity,  the  hand  of  Avarsce  is 
opened  to  the  generous  influence  of  Benevolence;  the  wan- 
tonness of  the  piofligate,  is  succeeded  by  philosophic 
thoughtfulncss  ;  die  asperity  of  Misanlliropy  is  sGtV&Ue 
Vol.  r.  No.  1 


j2Jisis^EaikmmmHi^M 


2  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

into  charity  and  cheerfulness  ;  the  conscience  of  the  criminal 
is  struck  to  repentance,  and  those  absurdities  and  foUic;' 
which  pervade  the 

"  Living  manners  as  they  i-iscy" 
and  are  not  immediately  cognizable  by  the  criminal  or  canon 
laws,  are  made  to  shrink  and  retire  before  the  iash  of  dra- 
matic satire  : 

"  Safe  from  the  bar,  the  pulpit  and  the  throne, 
"  Yet  touched  and  shatnd  by  ridicule  alone  .'" 

Under  these  impressions,  the  EDITOR  of  the  THESPIAN 
MIRROB^  ventures  to  present  his  work  to  the  public  eye.; 
and  though  it  comes  forward  un introduced,  and  without  any 
other  recommendation,  than  its  own  merits,  he  is  induced 
to  hope,  that  the  little  stranger  will  be  received  with  civility, 
judged  with  candor,  and,  (if  consistent  with  its  deserts)  be 
rewarded  by  the  cheerful  beams  of  public  patronage. 

Having  said  thus  much,  the  editor,  respectfully  submits 
the  publication,  and  its  plan-^  to  the  candid  exammation  of 
the  community  at  large,  anticipating,  (while  he  espouses 
the  cause  of  the  stage,  as  the  epitome  of  men  and  manners, 
and  the  teacher  of  virtue  and  morality,)  his  reward  in  the 
encouraging  patronage  of  the  citizens  of  new-york,  to 
whom  the  publication  is  respectfully  dedicated,  by 

The  Editor. 


^riectctr. 


REMARKS  ON  THE  THEATRE. 

IF  the  observation  which  has  been  frequently  made,  bea  jostone, 
tliat  "  nothing  has  a  more  cunsidcrnble  and  immediate  influence  upon  the 
m/inners  of  a  people  than  the  turn  xuhich  public  amuseincnts  take  among 
them,"'  it  will  constitute,  we  think,  a  strong  argument  in  behalf  of  a 
THE  ATR  E.  For  whilst  the  exhibitions  of  the  stage  are  capable  of  giving 
the  most  exquisite  entertainment,  tliey  forcibly  convey  the  most  important 
instruction  to  a  rational  audience  ;  and  are  therefore  agreeable  and  useful 
sehools  of  refined  manners,  of  generous  and  manly  sentiment,  of  prB- 


THESPIAN  MIRROR.  3 

elciit  and  virtuous  conduct.  To  deny  that  this  is  really  the  case,  would 
be  obstinate  piejudice.  The  sages  oi'  Greece  and  Koine,  and  the  cii- 
ijghtened  of  latter  times,  in  their  entoniiums  oiitheDiama,  irave  jiuii- 
iied  the  assertion.     Experienct  has  done  "itiore — it  lias  exeiriplihed  it. 

Let  us  but  reroHect  the  oJficessLwX  ends  of  the  Drama,  its  pretensions 
-"''  -..-~~-or^  and  we  shall  not  hesitate  in  forming  a  true  judgment  of  its 
merit.  Its  first  endeavour  is  to  touch  the  heart  ;  its  next  to  mend  it.  For 
the  former  purpose,  a  polished  diction  and  an  elevation  of  ser.timent, 
are  extremely  necessary:  to  effect  the  latter,  propriety  of  fable,  inte- 
resting situation,  variety  of  character,  and,  above  all,  morality  oflcssOn, 
are  esseniialiy  requisite.  These  are  perfections  wiiich  tiiepof/ wiil  fur- 
nish. It  will  be  the  business  of  tlie  acior,  by  tlie  vivid  force  of  represen- 
tation, to  give  them  a  peculiar  influence  over  themiiid. 

It  IS  well  known,  that  in  dramatic  exhibitious,  of  all  others,  the  hu- 
man genius  has  opportunities  of  exerting  and  dispiaymg  itself, in  the  most 
agreeable,  tlie  most  engaging  light,  and  perhaps  to  the  greatest  advan- 
tage. In  them  all  the  powers  of  oratory,  ail  tht;  variety  of  expression  of 
which  action  or  language  are  capable,  and  all  the  graces  of  delivery, 
aie  to  be  displayed.  From  the  stu^e,  where  Roscius  exercised  all  the 
energies  of  rhetoric,  the  '•laanter  in7nodo,and  thcfortiter  iiircCiCERO 
caught  that  animated  manner  of  composition  and  elocution,  to  which  he 
owed  h\sja}ne  and  its  immortality. 

According  to  Aristotle,  iUe  epic  poem  is  purely  an  imitation  ;  whereas 
the  dramatic  h  action  itself.  The  former  imitates  by  narration,  the  lat- 
ter rises  into  actual  existence,  kindles  into  forcible  hfe,  and  is  the  very 
story  it  would  represent.  Its  general  business,  among  the  ancients,  was 
the  instruction  of  mankind.  The  dignity  of  its  original  institution  it 
still  maintains.  Prodesse  ct  delectare  is  still  its  grand  characteristic.  And 
•without  saying  too  much  of  a  well  regulated  Theatre,  we  may  safely  afiirm 
that,  in  no  other  school  are  7noral  senti?nait  3.m\  refined  77iamier&mort 
emphatically  enforced  ;  or  vice,  and  fol/y  more  effectually  discountenanc- 
ed. Its  scenes  give  a  finished  display  of  life  and  manners ;  and  exhibit 
in  the  most  amiable  dress,  in  representations  the  most  affVcting,  all  the 
dignity  which  manly  virtue  gives  to  the  human  character,  and  the  honour 
and  happiness  with  which  it  rewards  its  possessor.  Moral  goodness  is 
rendered  familiar  to  us,  and  appears  truly  amiable  when  set  before  us  in 
such  an  affecting  and  engaging  manner.  As  a  good  picture  strikes  the 
mind  with  greater  force,  and  gives  a  more  lively  idea  of  the  object  repre- 
sented by  it  than  any  description  by  words  can  do,  so,  to  represent  pro- 
priety of  behaviour  in  precepts  does  not  move  the  atFections  so  powerfully 
as  when  we  see  it  delineated  in  example.  Narration  is  fiequently  unaf- 
fecting.  Didactic  discourse,  cold  and  uninteresting.  But  where  cha- 
racter is  personified,  and  historical  events  exhibited,  attention  will  be 
captivated,  and  a  communication  for  virtuous  sentiment  opened  to  the 
heart.  The  great  maxims  of  happiness  so  recommended  to  mankind, 
by  introducing  them  thus  adorned  with  all  the  graces  of  description,  elo- 
quence and  poetry,  cannot  fail  of  interesting,  and  making  a  deep  and 
lasting  impression  on  the  mind.  We  insensibly  learn  to  form  just  and 
impartial  opinions"  of  human  life.  Every  air.iable  affection,  every  hu- 
man feeling,  every  generous  sentiment  is  called  forth,  and  cherished  in 
(he  breast.  Ob  the  theatre^  also,  the  turpitude  and  deformity  of  vice 
are  so  strikingly  represented,  and  so  severely  lashed,  that  the  spectator 
shrinks  with  horror  from  its  view,  and  is  most  effectually  warned  and 
taught  to  escape  its  dominion.  The  painful  lessons  of  experience  are 
snared.  Prudence  and  wisdom  are  learned  from  tlie  wretched  conse- 
quences of  guilt,  tliere  painted  and  described. 


4  THESPIAN  MIIIROK. 

More  particiiiariy  in  tlie  cataelrnphe,  where  the  poet  and  actor  exert 
Ihe'u  utmost  stretch  of  ability  to  rouse  every  feeling  of  the  audience,  are 
the  passions  excited,  and  improved,  the  miiid  filled  with  the  most  noblfi 
ideas,  and  l!ic  heart  awakened  to  the  most  generous  emotions. 

It  is  said  that  by  these  means,  thai  eminent  tyrant,  Alexander  of 
Phercea,  wh>)  had  passed  his  hfc  in  an  uninterrupted  series  of  cruelties, 
withojl  commisi  ration  and  without  remorse,  wa-.  melted  iHto  tears  at  the 
exhibit. on  of  a  tragedy,  where  the  plTects  of  caiamiiy  on  the  mind  of 
the  safferer  were  expre.ssly  set  forth  before  his  imai^ination.  His  heart 
\va  iiude  to  feel  a  kindly  pity  ;  and  gradually  softened  into  a  tender  re- 
gret fo;  the  misery  in  which  his  own  ambition  and  barbarity  had  involv- 
ed others.  Charmed  with  tlie  noble  senlini'^nts  of  the  poet,  and  atifected 
by  Ui^  pathet  description,  accent  a. d  gesture  of  the  actor,  he  felt,  per- 
haps for  t'irt  rii>t  time,  with  high  delight,  tlie  sweet  emotions  which 
synijjath^  excite^. 

If  scenic  lepresentations co\ik\  inspire  a  tyrant  with  the  tender  sensibi- 
lities annexed  to  humanity  and  benevolence:  such  as  are  less  deficient  in 
feeling,  they  may  encourage  in  goodness  ;ind  strengthen  in  virtue,  such 
as  are  equally  insensible  thev  will  have  a  tendency  to  mollify  and  reclaim. 

"  As  a  perfect  T  rag  erf?/,"  says  the  elegant  ^fWi'so/j ,  "is  the  noblest 
production  of  human  nature,  so  it  is  capable  of  giving  the  mind  one  of 
the  most  delightful,  and  most  improving  enteTtd\nmt^n[%.  Diversions  of 
this  kind  wear  out  of  our  thoughts  every  thing  that  is  mean  and  little. 
They  cherish  and  cultivate  that  humanity  which  is  the  ornament  of  our 
nature.  They  soften  insolence,  soothe  affliction,  and  subdue  the  mind 
to  the  dispensations  of  Providence.  It  is  no  wonder,  therefore,  that  in 
all  the  polite  nations  of  the  world,  this  part  of  the  drima  has  met  with 
public  encouragement  '* 

Nor  is  Co/«erf?/ unimportant,  or  uninteresting.  Designed  to  shew  the 
incoiivenienciea  arising  from  imprudent  conduct,  and  irregular  sallies  of 
j)assinn,  to  ridicule  the  follies  and  vices  which  fashion  may  have  intro- 
diici  d,  or  habit  and  pride  sanctioutd,  and  to  represent  the  true  source 
of  private  enjoyments  from  social  atfections,  from  the  judicious  choice  of 
acquaintance  and  from  amiable  and  discreet  conduct  ;  it  would  also  di- 
rect in  the  conduct  of  life,  and  form  the  mind  to  virtue. 

We  shall  now  beg  leave  to  conclude  the  subject  for  the  present  saying 
■with  Horace,  ot  the  ^ctor  : 

"  Jlle 

}ueum  cui  pectus  inuniter  angit, 

Irrital    mulcet,  falsis  ierroribus  implet, 

Ut  magus ;  et  modo  mc  Thehis.  7nodn  ponit  AtherdsP 

"  'Ti«  he  taho  gives  my  breast  a  thousand  paint. 
Can  make  me  feel  each  passion  that   k€  feigns  ; 
Enrage,  compose,  vcitk  more  than  magic  art, 
IVitlt  pay  and  with  Urrcr  tear  my  heart  ; 
And  snatch  me,  o'er  the  earth,  a.s  thro*  the  air, 
£o  Tliebes,  to  Athens,  when  he  will,  or  where." 

Pope. 


THF:SPrAN  MIRROR.  s 

©riginuL 

Some  Account  of  the  Life  of  Mr.  Fennel,  the  celehrated 
Tragedian. 

DESCENDED  from  a  family  of  ihe  first  respectability,  in  Jjoiuion, 
Mr.  Fennel  rccieved  a  lii^er^ledu.  ation,  and  was  originally  intended  for 
the  pursuit  of  u^.e  law  :  but  a  strong  pjediiection  for  the  stage,  indvir.ed 
him  early  t-^  resign  his  Blackstone  i'or  the  more  attractive  pages  of 
Sha  K.Si'i.ARE  :  and  liis  theatrical  pasr.io.i  being  indulged  without  the 
consent  ut  his  friends,  whose  prejudices  were  equally  invincible  on  the 
■one  side,  as  his  on  the  other,  he  selected  Edinburgh  as  being  distant 
from  his  residence,  for  hii  lirst  tliea'rical  essay,  where  he  performed  in 
1787,  the  parts  of  Jaffier,  Othello,  &o.  with  great  applause,  and  under 
the  assumed  name  of  Camoray. 

Mr.  Fennel's  great  and  unexpected  success  at  Edinburgh,  induced 
iiim  to  contemplate  a  successful  reception  at  Lontlon,  to  which  place  he 
soon  after  returned.  On  his  arrival  here,  he  called  on  Mr.  Harris 
(without  mtroduction  of  any  kind).  ...but  having  spened  his  business,  and 
recited  a  few  passages  of  dramatic  compo?itions  before  this  gentleman, 
Mr.  Harris  was  so  highly  gratified  by  iliese  specimens  of  his  ability, 
that  a  night  was  immediately  fixed  for  his  debut  at  Coxeiit  Garden,  where 
he  ran  through  liis  principal  ciiaracters  with  much  success  ;  but  still  re- 
taining his  fictitious  name. 

The  increasing  fame  of  Mr.  Fennel,  induced  the  manager  of  the  Edin- 
burgh Theatre  to  wish  his  return  to  their  stage,  where  he  had  proceeded, 
and  played  there  some  time  with  approbation,  "till  one  eveiiin<5  bein»  an- 
nounced to  perform  the  character  of  Jaffier,  and  the  gentleman  who  had 
formerly  represented  it  (Mr.  Wood)  was  fixed  for  Pierre  ,  but  enraged  at 
the  exchange,  though  the  characters  have  ever  been  deemeti  equally 
good,  Mr.  Wood  complained  of  the  injustice  of  the  manager  (probably 
from  motives  of  envy  to  Mr.  Fennel)  to  his  friends.  Iviaded  with  in- 
vectives by  the  Plebeian  critics  of  the  town,  he  was  called  upon  to  make 
an  humiliating  apology,  which  he  would  not  submit  to  ;  a  law  case  en- 
sued on  both  sides,  which  lasted  a  longtime,  but  was  of  more  expence 
to  all  parties,  thanprofit  to  any-. .if  we  may  except  the  lavjijers. 

Immediately  after  this  singularly  infamous  atfair,  Mr.  Fennel  quitted 
the  stage  in  that  city  with  indignation,  and  played  a  short  time  at  York. 
but  \n  1789,  he  '•eturned  to  London,  where  he  resumed  his  siluation  for 
one  season,  (but  without  the  expected  success)  at  Govent  Garuen.  He 
afterwards  engaged  in  a  periodica?  publication,  callefi  the  "  'rhcatriral 


6  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

Ctisrclian,"  and  produced  a  comedy  entitled  "  Lindel  and  Clara,  av- 
ail!!) to  Gibraltar ,"  which  has  been  fiequently  performed,  and  was 
prinf.ed  i79L 

Not  long  after  this,  Mr.  Fennel  was  engaged  by  the  late  Mr.  Wjg- 
N£LL,  at  his  A^tn;  Theatre  in  Philadelphia,  and  met  with  great  success. 
He  has  since  performed  at  the  various  Theatres  on  the  continent  ;  but, 
for  some  reasons  unknown  to  us,  (a  circumstance  to  be  iani>ented  by  all 
lovers  of  the  drama)  Mr.  Fennel,  about  two  years  ago,  took  leave  of 
liic  stage,  and  has  since  appeared  only  occasionally.  He  is  now  engaged 
in  an  extensive  establishrnent  o{  Salt  IVorks,  the  plan  of  inasiufactur- 
ing  which,  he  has  brought  to  great  perfection. 

Mr.  Fennel's  deportment  is  graceful. ...his  person  majestic, ..his  face 
admirably  calculated  for  the  stage.. ..bis  action  easy  and  judicious. ...his 
utrerance  distinct  and  natural he  excels  in  the  more  weighty  charac- 
ters of  the  Drama  ;  his  master  piece  is  "  Othello,  Moor  uf  Fenice.  *' 
His  manners  are  polished,  and  his  understanding  refined. 

Mr.  Fennel's  residence  is  near  New-London.  He  is  now  on  a  visit 
to  this  city,  and  we  aie  happy  tohearthat  he  has  been  prevailed  upon  to 
run  through  his  principal  dramatic  characters  in  a  few  days,  on  our 
Stage. 


IrnitatiG  vita:,  speculum  consuctudinis,ima^o  veritatis Cicero, 

The  Imitation  ofLife,..the  Mirror  of  Manners. ..the  Representation  of  Truth 


THEATRICAL   REGISTER. 

"  'TV*  'xith  our  judgments,  as  our  watches,... none 
"  Go  just  alike... .but  each  believe  his  ov:n. 

IN  commencing  a  critical  and  impartial  register  of  the  performances  of 
the  New-Yop.K  Theatre,  we  would  observe  that  our  remarks  shall  be 
generous  in  spirit,  and  judicious  as  our  understandrng  will  allow  ;  not 
directed  to  the  feeling  of  individuals,  (as  i$  too  often  tiie  case  in  essays^ of 
this  iitttiMc)  much  less  to  the  injury  of  the  establishment :  but  always 
fndeavnviogto  interest  and  improve,  we  shall  strive  to  be  generally  candid, 
and  only 

Blame  where  we  nmst — praise  where  we  can. 
7"his  premised,  we  shall  comhif^nce  out  review  with  a  sketch  of  the 
entertainment?  ior  the  week  last  past,  when  an  additional  evening  was. 
aHoii-i^d  for  performance^  on  accoant  of  the  customary  holidays,  at  this 
£Pason  (»f  the  yrar. 


THESPIAN  MIRROR.  7 

The  ainusemenis  for  Monday  Evening,  iatrodiiced  (o  the  notice  of 
the  New-York  audience,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Young,  (wm  thcl  htaiie  Koya!, 
Norwich,  (England)  and  late  of  the  Boslon  Theatre  ;  for  which  o<  cation 
(he  aoniired  opera ot  the  Mountaineers,  was  got  upwilhconbidcrable 
success. 

We  l)ave  heard  that  on  a  sudden  iihiess  of  Mr.  Cooper,  in  tlie  Boston 
Theatre,  wiien  tiiis  play  was  announced  for  representation,  Mr.  Young 
oflered  himself  as  a  substitute  for  his  part,  and  indctd  took  it,  at  an  liaif 
hour's  notice.  When  he  came  forward,  he  was  received  as  Mr.  Cooper, 
and  during  the  whole  of  the  second  act,  was  svipposedto  he  the  Anjenc;ni 
Roscius.  It  hiid  now  circulated  among  the  audience,  that  an  jipology 
had  been  made  for  Cooper's  non-appearance,  previous  to  llie  rise  of  ihe 
curtain,  before  the  company  was  collected,  and  that  Mr,  \oung  was  the 
Octavian  of  the  evening  !  The  surprise  of  tlie  spectators  w  as  great : — but 
iheir  admiration  of  the  actoi's  ability  was  greater. 

We  quote  this  little  occurrence  only  to  exemplify  that  Mr.  Young's 
personation  of  Octavian  was  there  supposed  little  inferior  to  Mr.  Cooper'^, 
as  this  gentleman  had,  "ot  a  long  time  before,  represented  the  same  cha- 
racter on  the  "^anie  boards. 

Tlie  house  on  Monday  Evening  was  crouded,  and  if  we  may  judge 
from  the  approbation  expreased,  generally  gia'ified.  On  the  appearance 
of  Octavian  the  applause  was  great.  Mr.  Young  has  some  ver)  sulking 
attitudes,  which  h.e  displays  with  much  grace.  IJis  voice  is  bad,  and  his 
utterance  too  precipitate.  His  person  is  very  well  calculated  for  the  stage; 
and  he  possesses  requisites  for  an  actor,  which,  with  due  practice  and 
attention,  may  procure  him  eminence.  Thofe  parts  of  Ocimv^H  whicli 
require  the  most  energy,  such  as  the  introductory  soliloquy,  tl'C  interview 
with  Floranthe,  ^c.  -were  particularly  deserving,  but  m  declamaicry 
speaking,  Mr.  Young  is  faulty.  It  must,  however,  be  allowed,  ihiil  his" 
peilormance  on  this  occasion,  discovered  much  talent. 

We  have  now  to  notice  Mrs.  Youn  g,  a  promising  actress,  who  made  hri- 
debut  in  Agues.  We  are  told  that  she  is  yet  a  'novidaic  under  the  baiunrj^ 
ol  the  Thespian  Muse,  and  as  such  she  is  certainly  deserving  of  every 
encouragement. 

Mrs.  Johnson  as  Floranthe  could  do  no  otherwise  than  well:— the 
other  parts  were  generally  respectable. 

1  he  Spoil'd  Child,  as  the  after-piete,  gratified  us  with  Littk Fickle 
by  Mrs.  Jones  ;  who  in  that  characti r,  to  use  a  common  phrase,  ''Jnirly 
out  shoivn  herself."  We  can  say  nothing  of  the  particular  beauties  of  her 
performance,  wiiere  the  whole  was  indescribably  charming. 

Old  Pickle,  by  Mr.  Hogg,  was  pertfctly  chatacteristic,  zr\dTogg 
the  Author,  by  Mr.  Martin,  was  meritorious. 


TUESDAY    EVENING. 


The  Coiinry  Girl,  and  Harlequin's  Imusion, 


It  is  always  a  pleasing  task  to  give  merit  iU  due  commendation ;  and 
still  more  satisfactory,  to  be  warranted  in  frequent  encrmia.  VV>  at^ 
confidejit  that  if  praise  is  duo  to  any  one  ou  uic  AmciKsn  Stage,  Mrs. 


e 


8  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

Jo^'F,s  is  ar.iong  the  first  who  deserve  \i  ;   and  on  no  Conner  occasion   ha^ 
bhegik'i-n  muie^pleasure,  llian  in  her  Miss  Peggy,  ou  Taesd4y  evening. 

This  cliaracter  represents  a  rural  Country  Girl,  jjossessed  of  native 
archness,  bui  unrefined  manners,  wilh  whom  an  old  it^formed  lake  is  in 
lovu  Sl'-c  promises  him  iu:r  iiand.  and  he  cai  i-ieb  her  before  marriage,  la 
visit  the  Bi"itish  metropolis.  On  her  emerging  from  the  simple  scenes  of 
nature,  to  winch  she  had  been  accustomed,  into  the  gaiety  of  London, 
she  IS  struck,  with  the  novelty  of  the  scenes  around  her,  and  at  length 
meets  a  young  man.  for  whom  a  mutual  attachment  is  conceived,  and  the 
event  terminates  (at'ler  mucli  incidental  intngue)  in  the  conclusion  of  a 
marriage  betw<'eii  the  lovers.  There  is  a  similar  counterplot,  wtiich  coi\- 
cliides  nearly  in  the  same  manner. 

it  is  in  pavt.^  like  the  Country  Girl.  Ihat  Mrs.  Jones  exceis;   and    w 
speak  thf  opinion  of  the  audience,  in  observing  thai  we  should  never  wish 
to  sec  Miss  /'f^gy  better  played,  even  conld  ii  be  excelled. 

Mr  Johnsons  Mondtj   was  very  characteristic. 

Mr.  Tyler,  in  Harcnurt,  was  perfectly  at  home.  Martin's 
Sparkish,  particularly  liie  drunken  scene,  was  very  well ;  but  we  thought 
it  somewhat  oveidone. 

Mrs.  ViL-LERs'  Alaihca  excited  much  applause  ;  we  cannot  but  regard 
this  lady  as  a  valuable  acquisition  to  our  stage.  Miss  White  was  res- 
pectable. 

— «{'®'»»-~ 

THURSDAV   EVENING. 


George  Bar?izvell,  and  Blue  Beard, 


We  have  before  observed,  that  in  those  passages  of  Drama,  expressive 
of  the  strongest  passions,  Mr.  Young's  chief  excellence  consisted;  con- 
sequently, that  part  of  this  interesting  tragedy  which  represents  Barn- 
well, after  being  hurried  into  the  extreme  of  vice  by  the  arts  of  Milvjood, 
struggling  whether  to  complete  his  intamy  by  the  murder  of  his  uncle, 
%vhich  he  afterwards  effects,  received  more  particular  force  in  his  hands. 
We  were  happy  to  observe  that  the  applause  was  so  gtjneral. 

We  are  always  gratified  to  witness  theannunciation  of  Mrs.  Johnssm, 
iiecause  we  are  always  confident  of  entertainment  fiow  her  :  herMitaiA 
increased   our  favorable  sentiaients  of  her  talents. 

•  Mrs.  Barret  h.as  a  fault  in  her  pcrfonnauce  3,  which  is,  we  believe, 
peculiar  to  lierself....that  of  speaking  with  tedious  deliberation  We  arr* 
of  opinion,  that  a  little  care  will  correct  this,  which  she  may  be  assured, 
will  add  much  to  her  playing,  whi'  a  is,  in  other  respects,  very  good. 
Mikvood  was  well  treated  in  her  hands. 


NEW-YORK-. ..PRIT^TED  FOR  THE  KDITOR,   BY    SOUTHWICK  ANP 
H.-iRD CASTLE,  NO.  2,  WALL-STREET. 


ADDENDA 

From  the  Thespian  Mirror  of  January  ii, 
1806,  we  quote  Payne's  comments  on  the 
production  of  Jane  Shore:  — 

We  have  seen  no  play  recently  represented 
on  our  boards,  which  met  with  a  better  sup- 
port than  Rowe's  excellent  Tragedy  of  Jane 
Shore.  Mr.  Fennel's  *Lord  Hastings'  is 
certainly  the  best  character  he  has  recently 
attempted.  His  last  scene  was  particularly 
excellent;  and  when  he  repeated  the  following 
passage,  every  heart  sympathised  in  the  sor- 
rows of  the  unhappy  Hastings,  and  scarce 
an  eye  remained  unmoistened :  — 

'Yes,  RatcIIffe,  I  will  take  thy  friendly  counsel 
And  die  as  a  man  should;  'tis  somewhat  hard, 
To  call  my  scatter'd  spirits  home  at  once: 
But  since  what  must  be,  must  be  —  let  necessity 
Supply  the  place  of  time  and  preparation. 
And  arm  me  for  the  blow.    'Tis  but  to  die, 
'Tis  but  to  venture  on  that  common  hazard, 
Which  many  a  time  in  battle  I  have  run; 
Tis  but  to  close  my  eyes  and  shut  out  day-light, 
To  view  no  more  the  wicked  ways  of  men, 

173 


No  longer  to  behold  the  tyrant  Gloster, 
And  be  a  weeping  witness  of  the  woes, 
The  desolation,  slaughter,  and  calamities. 
Which  he  shall  bring  on  this  unhappy  land.' 

The  ensuing  scene  was  likewise  very  im- 
pressive; but  in  the  scene  of  the  3d  Act,  with 
*  Gloster,'  he  was  not  sufficiently  forcible,  and 
in  one  passage  was  imperfect.  — 

'When  shall  the  deadly  hate  of  faction  cease. 
When  shall  our  long  divided  land  have  rest,'  &c., 

were  somewhat  lamely  delivered.  His  expres- 
sion of  countenance  on  receiving  Gloster's 
sentence  was  inimitable. 

Mrs.  Johnson's  'Jane  Shore'  was  unexcep- 
tionable. Her  animation  at  hearing  that  Hast- 
ings had  espoused  the  cause  of  the  wrong'd 
young  King,  and  was  determined  to  shield 
him  from  oppression,  was  finely  conceived; 
but  that  look  of  eloquence  with  which  she 
heard  herself  proclaimed  an  outcast  to  society 
immediately  communicated  throughout  the 
house  —  and  when  she  comes  forward  in  her 
mean  attire,  hungry,  faint  and  weary,  she 

'Entranc'd  attention  —  and  a  mute  applause.* 

The  pearly  tear  hung  on  each  moistened  eye 
—  and  every  visage  looked  admiration.     We 

174 


conceived  her  last  dress  was,  however,  too 
good  for  her  supposed  situation. 

Mrs.  Barrett  conceived  her  part  very 
well  and  in  the  latter  part  of  her  perform- 
ance was  very  excellent;  but  she  ranted  so 
much  that  her  voice  was  not  sufficiently 
strong  to  support  the  exercise.  She  dis- 
played great  feeling  in  her  parting  scene  with 
Hastings. 

With  Mr.  Tyler  we  were  much  pleased. 
His  *Dumont'  was  feeling,  expressive  and  char- 
acteristic. In  short,  it  was  performed  with 
uncommon  justice  and  discrimination. 

Mr.  Hallam  performed  'Gloster'  with  ac- 
curacy. His  age,  &c.  were  suited  to  the  char- 
acter. Martin,  in  '  Belmour,'  was  not  perfectly 
at  home. 

The  charming  trifle  of  the  SpoWd  Child  was 
successfully  repeated.  We  have  before  spoken 
of  Mrs.  Jones'  'Little  Pickle,'  which  probably 
could  not  be  equalled  on  the  American  stage. 
Her  songs,  particularly  that  of  — 

*Poll  dang  it,  how  d'ye  do,* 

were  encored.  Mr.  Hogg,  who  is  always  ex- 
cellent in  characters  of  the  like  nature,  was 
very  much  applauded  in  'Old  Pickle;'  and 

175 


Mr.  Martin's  *Tagg'  was  perfectly  character- 
istic.   Mrs.  Simpson  was  barely  passable. 


Again,  on  the  following  March  8,  when  the 
same  play  was  given  "for  the  benefit  of  Miss 
Dellinger,"  Payne  writes  in  the  Thespian 
Mirror:  — 

Benevolence,  ever  awake  to  the  call  of  mis- 
fortune, exerted  herself  this  evening  in  favour 
of  Miss  Dellinger,  who  (by  the  untimely  pri- 
vation of  a  father,  urged  by  the  oppression  of 
unfeeling  creditors  to  the  commission  of  sui- 
cide) is  left,  the  sole  dependance  of  a  numerous 
family.  Through  the  generosity  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  theater,  who  individually  volun- 
teered their  services,  this  evening  was  fixed 
for  her  Benefit.  It  is  hoped  that  other  public 
institutions  will  emulate  the  example  of  the 
Theater,  and  devote  something  to  the  assist- 
ance of  this  unfortunate  young  lady,  in  order 
to  place  within  her  reach  the  means  of  sup- 
porting those  who,  by  this  melancholy  decree 
of  Providence,  are  left  to  look  up  for  their 
daily  bread  to  an  afflicted  and  unhappy  sister. 
^He  that  giveth  to  the  poor,  lendeth  unto  the 
Lord;  and  that  which  he  giveth,  will  he  pay  unto 
him  again.'' 

176 


The  distinguishing  features  of  Mr.  Cooper's 
*Lord  Hastings,'  were  chastity  and  nature. 
He  seemed  *no  actor  there'  —  yet  once,  in  the 
very  torrent  and  tempest  of  his  passion,  ex- 
claiming to  Dumont, '  Avaunt !  Base  Groom ' — 

*'Twas  wanting  what  should  follow!' 

Neither  were  we  perfectly  satisfied  with  his 
manner  of  turning  — 

*And  die  —  as  a  man  should;* 

That  he  must  die,  had  been  previously  decreed 
by  the  Lord  Protector;  the  reading  would 
therefore  have  stood  better,  — 

*And  die,  as  a  MAN  should.'' 

Mrs.  Johnson  appeared  for  the  first  time 
since  a  very  severe  illness,  to  aid  the  cause  of 
misfortune.  An  interesting  dignity  charac- 
terised her  'Jane  Shore.'  Mrs.  J.  has  a  manner 
of  describing  angles  with  her  elbows,  which  is 
not  graceful.  .  .  . 


In  commenting  upon  The  Wheel  of  Fortune, 
with  the  Romp  as  an  after-piece,  Payne  says : — 

Mr.   Hogg's    'Watty'   was    excellent,    and 
without  the  disadvantage  of  a  bad  person  for 

177 


the  character,  would  have  been  perfectly  nat- 
ural. *  Watty,'  though  an  overgrown  lad,  is 
not  yet  one  of  those  whom  Cowper  calls  — 

'Children  of  a  larger  growth.' 

and  we  are  induced  to  think  that  the  appella- 
tion of  ^Little  Watty ^  was  misapplied. 

Misses  Graham  and  White  were  tolerable. 
We  would  recommend  more  animation  and 
energy  to  the  former;  and  to  the  latter,  we 
think  more  attention  to  her  part  than  to  the 
audience,  would  be  an  improvement.  Glanc- 
ing over  the  boxes  has  no  good  appearance, 
however  well  it  may  be  done. 


The  following  appeared  in  the  Thespian 
Mirror  of  January  i8,  1806;  they  are  the  lines 
referred  to  by  Payne  when  writing  to  his 
father  about  the  altercation  with  Mr.  Seaman, 
—  see  pp.  27-8,  ante:  — 

[Written  to  be  spoken  at  the  Benefit  of  the  Misses 
Hodgkinson.] 
When  polished  talents  meet  an  early  doom, 
And  beauty  sinks  untimely  to  the  tomb, 
The  muses  haste  the  tuneful  meed  to  pay, 
And  crowned  with  cypress  form  the  elegiac  lay; 
With  pensive  mien  surround  the  silent  urn 
And  mourn,  though  conscious  'tis  in  vain  to  mourn  — 

178 


No  fancy'd  griefs  now  wake  the  impassion'd  sigh, 

No  woe  fictitious  swells  the  streaming  eye; 

For  pity  here  two  hapless  orphans  sue, 

And  raise  their  little  hands  with  hope  to  you. 

No  mother's  soothing  voice  allays  their  fears, 

No  father's  cheering  accent  checks  their  tears  — 

Bereft  of  both,  to  you  they  gladly  turn. 

And  hope  to  find  those  friends  whose  loss  they  mourn. 

Ah!  think  how  oft  their  father's  magic  powers 

Have  sooth'd  your  cares  and  wing'd  the  lingering  hours; 

Think  with  what  transport  you've  delighted  hung, 

On  the  enchantment  of  their  mother's  tongue  — 

Mute  is  that  tongue!  those  powers  to  please  are  o'er! 

They'll  charm  the  eye  —  delight  the  ear  no  more! 

But  while  you  mourn  the  parents'  early  fate, 

With  pity  view  their  children's  orphan  state; 

Raise  them  from  earth,  their  infant  steps  sustain, 

Remove  the  pangs  of  poverty  and  pain. 

Cheered  by  your  favors  —  by  your  bounty  fed. 

Their  opening  talents  to  perfection  led, 

May  rise  to  grace  these  boards,  so  often  grac'd 

By  beauty,  merit,  elegance  and  taste; 

By  you  sustain'd,  in  worth,  in  charms  they'll  rise. 

And  future  Hodgkinsons  shall  bless  your  eyes. 

The  following  Address  was  spoken  by  the 
two  little  orphan  girls  at  their  Benefit  in  New 
York  City  for  which  the  foregoing  lines  were 
written :  — 

FANNY 

Ere  three  short  winters  with  their  snows  are  fled, 
A  Mother  dies;  a  Father,  too,  is  dead: 
Their  little  Orphans,  we,  this  night  appear. 
And,  lest  we  pain  you,  dry  the  trembling  tear. 
179 


Oh!  yet  forgive  us  if  a  tear  should  start, 
Spite  of  the  struggles  of  an  infant's  heart; 
If  e'er  a  sigh,  when  most  your  smiles  approve. 
Breathe  its  soft  tribute  to  a  Mother's  love! 
Departed  Mother!  —  cherish'd  here  art  thou; 
Thy  voice  of  sweetness,  and  thine  angel  brow. 
Oh!  must  that  voice  forever  hush'd  remain? 
And  can'st  thou  never  smile  on  us  again? 
Still,  tho'  we  see  thee  not,  be  thine  the  care 
To  shield  the  infants  of  thy  love  with  pray'r, 
Oh!  still  thy  guardian  smile  of  fondness  shed. 
And  we  will  love  thee,  Mother,  tho'  thou'rt  dead! 
Yet  ours  is  hope  —  for  e'er  his  parting  breath 
The  best  of  Fathers  yielded  up  in  death; 
As  in  his  languid  eye  stood  life's  last  tear, 
He  told  us  we  should  find  our  Parents  here. 
"Tho'  from  these  feeble  limbs,  my  Babes,"  he  sigh'd, 

"Swift  to  the  heart  the  pulses  all  retire: 
And  soon,  ah  soon!  its  throbbings  must  divide 

Forever  from  his  weeping  Babes  their  Sire  — 
Yet  mourn  not  with  an  anguish  too  severe; 

Oh!  weep  not  ever  o'er  a  Father's  tomb! 
For  many  a  sigh  is  yours,  and  many  a  prayer, 

And  Beauty  waits  to  rear  you  into  bloom  — 
Farewell!"  —  he  sigh'd  —  and  feeble  was  the  sigh; 

For  hardly  did  the  pulse  of  being  glide: 
Then,  lifting  up  to  heaven  his  closing  eye, 

He  bless'd  his  Babes,  and  —  died!  — 
Lamented  Spirit!  sweet  be  thy  repose! 
Sweet  as  thy  parting  voice  that  sooth'd  our  woes; 
For  one,  still  bleeding  with  the  recent  smart. 
Has  press'd  thy  weeping  infants  to  his  heart; 
And  Friends,  far  dearer  to  their  souls  than  life. 
Contend  to  shield  them  with  a  generous  strife. 

1 80 


ROSINA 

Yes,  dearest  Sister!  our  Papa  was  right; 
For  we  have  Friends  and  Patrons  here  this  night. 
What,  tho'  Mama  is  gone,  methinks  I  trace 
Her  smile  that  blest  us,  in  each  beauteous  face. 
Tho'  heaven  has  forc'd  our  dear  Papa  to  die, 
A  Father  beams  from  each  indulgent  eye. 

FANNY 

Our  kind  Protectors!  tho'  we  boast  the  while 
At  best  to  please  you  but  a  grateful  heart; 
Ah,  who  can  tell,  but,  cherish'd  by  your  smile. 

The  Infant  may  surpass  its  Parents'  art.^ 
So,  rescued  from  the  bleak,  autumnal  gale, 
The  little  shivering  tenant  of  the  vale. 
To  gentler  skies  by  some  kind  hand  convey'd. 
In  more  than  native  beauty  is  array'd; 
Points  its  soft  tendrils  mid  the  winter's  gloom. 
And  springs  and  blushes  with  protracted  bloom. 

ROSINA 

Our  Parents  nozv!  than  Parents  dearer  far! 
Sweet  to  your  slumbers  be  the  Orphan's  prayer! 
That  prayer,  oh  never  will  we  fail  to  give. 
Nor  cease  to  love  you,  till  we  cease  to  live. 

Payne's  precocity  in  dramatic  criticism  may 
be  further  observed  in  the  following  comments, 
which  we  reprint  from  the  Thespian  Mirror  of 
February  i,  1806:  — 

Sheridan's  opera  of  the  Duenna  possesses 
sterling  merit;  it  has  survived  the  test  of  repe- 

181 


tition  for  years,  and  is  attractive,  without  ex- 
traordinary aid  from  the  actor.  On  Monday 
evening  it  received  its  customary  tribute  from 
a  crowded  and  fashionable  house,  and  our 
ears  were  repeatedly  exhilarated  by  the  ap- 
plause of  the  boxes;  the  encore  of  the  pit;  and 
the  thunders  of  the  gallery. 

Anxiety  was  awake  as  to  the  debut  of  the 
noviciate  in  Carlos.^  He  was  encouragingly 
received.  We  hope  that  in  the  future  manage- 
ment he  will  rather  endeavor  to  cultivate  its 
sweetness,  than  to  extend  its  compass.  The 
terrors  incident  to  a  first  attempt  Induce  us 
to  forbear  any  closer  comments  on  this  first 
representation  of  Carlos. 

Mr.  Johnson  gave  much  satisfaction  in 
*Don  Jerome;'  but  In  the  expression  of  rage,  he 

'Outrav'd  the  ravings  of  the  storm.' 
Perhaps  less  oi  fury,  would  be  more  of  nature. 

*  "The  Editor  of  the  Mirror  was  not  a  little  amused  on 
hearing  it  whispered  throughout  the  boxes,  on  this  occasion, 
that  he  was  to  personate  Don  Carlos  in  the  Duenna!  and 
his  amusement  was  somewhat  heightened  on  the  entrance  of 
the  expected  noviciate.  'A  pretty  strapping  boy,  however,' 
exclaimed  one  —  'pretty  tall  of  his  age,'  said  another.  The 
Editor  begs  leave  to  inform  those  who  still  labour  under  this 
unfortunate  mistake  —  that  he  really  was  not  the  Don  Carlos 
of  Monday  Evening!!!" 

182 


Mr.  Tyler  in  'Ferdinand'  was  respectable, 
tho'  not  without  blemishes.  We  would  wish 
him  in  aiming  at  rapidity,  to  avoid  if  possible 
the  extreme  of  indistinctness. 

Martin,  in  'Signor  Isaac'  was  truly  excel- 
lent. We  never  saw  him  mingle  so  little  of 
himself  with  his  manner  of  acting.  He  was 
(with  one  or  two  exceptions)  a  perfect  son  of 
Levi.  We  are  sorry  that  so  much  cannot  be 
said  in  praise  of  his  Sultan  in  the  farce. 
Through  the  whole  of  the  afterpiece,  he  was 
uniformly  dull  and  most  wretchedly  imper- 
fect —  and  frequently  seemed  — 

'To  dumb  forgetfulness  a  prey.* 

Hogg  had  as  much  of  the  Swine  about  him 
as  we  could  wish  in  the  fat  Friar;  and  truly 
never  was  there  a  satire  more  just,  or  more 
severe,  than  that  which  the  Convent  scene 
furnishes  on  the  pretended  sanctity  of  the 
holy  fathers. 

We  cannot  help  noticing  the  pale-visaged 
porter.  He  called  to  our  minds  Shakespeare's 
Apothecary  — 

'Despair  is  in  thy  looks,'  &c. 

If  critics  may  be  allowed  to  descend  so  low 
as  to  the  picking  up  of  a  crumb,  we  must  say 

183 


that  we  never  saw  Mr.  Robinson  to  such  an 
advantage,  as  in  the  personation  of  the  meagre, 
half  starved  attendant. 

Mrs.  Young  was  unusually  Interesting. 
*  Louisa'  certainly  did  not  suffer  in  the  person 
of  her  representative;  and  although  the  voice 
and  action  of  Mrs.  Young  may  have  been 
secondary  to  the  beauty  of  her  person,  yet  we 
cannot  but  be  of  opinion  that  a  little  additional 
distinctness  of  utterance  and  freedom  of  ges- 
ture, will  render  her  a  still  more  able  represen- 
tative of  the  youthful  and  arch  'Louisa.' 

Mrs.  Simpson  in  the  *  Duenna'  was  more 
audible  and  distinct  than  we  have  ever  wit- 
nessed her. 

Of  Mrs.  Jones'^  *  Clara'  too  much  cannot 

^  In  a  previous  Issue  of  the  Thespian  Mirror,  Payne 
said:  "Mrs.  Jones  cannot  be  otherwise  than  excellent.  She 
is,  speaking  without  flattery,  the  most  fascinating  and  really 
deserving  actress  that  ever  trod  the  American  stage."  He  also 
printed  the  following  lines,  addressed  to  her:  — 

Oh!  blest  is  the  moment,  sweet  warbler!  and  long 
Shall  its  raptures  be  mingled  with  memory's  sigh, 

That  gives  us  thy  tenderness,  beauty,  and  song, 

And  the  glow  of  thy  heart  in  the  gleam  of  thine  eye! 

Dear  to  thee  be  that  moment!  still  dearer  than  those 

When  the  first  lisp  of  infancy  murmur'd  its  pray'r  — 
For  the  tempest  once  past;  Oh  how  sweet  is  repose! 
And  virtue  how  bright,  when  she  dawns  from  despair. 

184 


be  said  In  the  way  of  encomium.  This  lady 
certainly  possesses  the  strongest  claims  to 
public  approbation  and  support.  Her  voice 
has  melody,  sweetness  and  expression  —  her 
manner  ease,  sportlveness  and  Interest.  In 
the  song  of  *  Adieu  thou  dreary  pile!'  she  al- 
most surpassed  herself.  Her  trills  were  given 
with  the  utmost  delicacy;  and  such  was  the 
delight  which  this  song  Imparted,  that  ap- 
plause could  scarcely  continue  silent  to  its 
termination. 

Miss  Delllnger's  voice  has  some  pleasing 
traits;  but  she  is  most  lamentably  deficient  in 
expression  of  manner,  force  of  emphasis  and 
distinctness  of  articulation. 

It  would  be  unpardonable  were  we  to  pass 
over  the  (T esprit  of  Mrs.  Johnson  in  *Roxa- 
lana.'  She  gave  to  the  imperfect  piece  of  the 
*  Sultan'  more  Interest  than  we  thought  it 
capable  of  possessing.  Tho'  this  lady's  forte 
is  the  plaintive  and  the  sad,  we  are  happy  to 
observe  that  she  can  be  light  and  playful, 
without  descending. 

We  shall  close  our  remarks  with  one  of  a 
general  nature.  In  modern  opera  the  Song  Is 
announced  by  some  studied  phrase  which 
drops  from  the  lips  of  the  performers,  and 

i8s 


which  is  well  understood  to  be  preparatory  to 
the  exercise  of  the  lungs.  The  Orchestra  then 
opens  upon  us  and  the  singer  in  dumb  sus- 
pense awaits  the  termination  of  the  symphony. 
This  interval  is  on  every  occasion  a  mighty 
melancholy  one.  From  the  sadness  Into  which 
the  visage  of  the  performer  settles  the  moment 
that  he  has  uttered  the  preparatory  sentence, 
one  would  suppose  it  had  been  his  sentence  of 
death;  and  from  the  doleful  manner  in  which 
he  paces  the  stage  during  the  interval  of  the 
symphony  one  would  imagine  he  was  listening 
to  his  requiem.  In  an  instant  the  Hoyden  of 
sixteen  has  become  the  heart-broken  widow 
of  thirty;  and  the  careless  spark  assumes  a 
visage  and  deportment  like  that  which  im- 
mortalized the  *  Knight  of  the  rueful  counte- 
nance.' For  this  departure  from  the  uniform 
personation  of  character  we  can  see  no  plau- 
sible excuse;  and  perhaps  the  apparently 
dreaded  interval,  which  is  to  introduce  us  to 
'Dorothy  Dump,'  or  'Amo  Amas'  would  be 
better  filled  up  by  an  easy  deportment  on  the 
part  of  the  performer  than  by  that  long-vis- 
aged sadness,  which  would  seem  to  predict 
nothing  less  than  the  torture  of  lungs  and 
ears. 

1 86 


In  the  Thespian  Mirror  oi  February  22,  Payne 
thus  caustically  expresses  his  disapproval  of 
Mr.  Young's  interpretation  of  Romeo:  — 

The  little  which  we  saw  of  Mr.  Young's 
*  Romeo'  (having  been  detained  from  the 
Theater  until  the  conclusion  of  the  4th  act) 
exceeded  our  expectation.  He  was,  notwith- 
standing, faulty  —  and  we  must  recommend 
to  him  to  bestow  some  preparatory  study 
before  he  aspires  to  the  more  elevated  charac- 
ters of  Shakespeare,  whose  plays  are  as  diffi- 
cult to  represent  with  accuracy  as  they  are 
superior  to  the  works  of  common  dramatists. 
Lady  Montague  relates  an  instance  of  a  lady 
at  Constantinople,  who  fell  in  love  with  a 
dictionary.  If  this  gentleman  could  form  a  like 
attachment,  and  take  advantage  of  the  passion 
by  correcting  his  accent  and  pronunciation,  he 
would  give  pleasure  where  now  he  offends 
propriety.  He  must  also  pay  some  respect  to 
his  Author,  and  be  careful  to  avoid  blundering 
on  the  — 

'EMPTY  account  of  BEGGARLY  boxes,' 

for  such  mistakes  will  not  make  'the  charmer 
in  [his]  turn  feel  the  pleasing  effects  of  a  good 
benefit.' 

187 


Reading  and  literary  information  are  es- 
sentials to  a  good  actor;  and  a  perfect  ac- 
quaintance with  at  least  one  language  is 
indispensable.  The  celebrated  Kemble  is  said 
to  have  bestowed  months,  and  indeed  years 
upon  single  characters.  It  is  not  unmeaning 
'words,  words,  words!'  which  he  commits  to 
memory  —  it  is  ideas,  ideas,  ideas.  He  studies 
the  approbation  of  the  judicious  —  not  the 
applauses  of  the  million.  Was  such  the  case 
with  Mr.  Young,  and  would  he  in  the  first 
place  correct  his  pronunciation,  and  then  en- 
deavour to  give  us  what  is  theatrically  called 
just  readings  —  his  voice,  person  and  gesture 
would  answer  for  themselves.  The  patient 
study  of  Walker's  standard  of  Pronunciation, 
and  his  Rhetorical  Dictionary,  with  an  accu- 
rate conception  of  the  parts  which  he  under- 
takes, can  only  fit  him  for  a  representation  of 
the  leading  characters  of  the  plays  of  Shak- 
speare.  Mrs.  Johnson's  'Juliet,'  was  inter- 
esting. 


i88 


N°.  XIII. 

THE 

THESPIAN  MIRROR. 


SATl/UDAY    EVENING,    MAKCH  22,    1806. 

Co  t|je  pmk. 


<^^^^^^.y 


THE  Editor  of  the  Thespian  Mirror  respectfully  ac- 
quaints his  friends  and  subscribers,  that,  in  consequence  of 
circumstances  which  have  transpired  since  the  publication 
of  the  fourth  number  of  his  miscellany,  he  lias  resolved  to 
relinquish  the  editorial  duties  of  that  work,  in  order,  more 
particularly,  to  apply  himself  to  studies,  which  may  pro- 
mote his  future  usefulness  in  life,  and  mature,  strenorthen, 
and  extend  a  disposition  for  literature,  which  has  grovvu 
with  his  earliest  years. 

When  the  MiRROR  was  commenced  in  this  city,  it  wiis  ur; 
der  circumstances  which  have  since  become  vnj  teriaily  ulLf;«:- 
ed.  From  the  interest  which  some  warm-hearted  friends, 
(perhaps  injudiciously,)  took  in  the  Editor,  the  work  was 
brought  forward,  and  enthusiastically  ushered  into  public 
notice.  Various  were  the  sentiments  of  the  community  re- 
specting, it,  and  as  various  was  popular  conjecture  on  the, 
effects  of  the  misdirected  exertions  of  it.<5  juvenile  Editor. 
From  a  wish  to  render  him  use/id  rather  than  ornamcntd  in 
society,  plans  were  agitated  for  placing  him  in  the  toil  pos- 
session of  advantages,  with  which  he  might  cuJtiva'^c  a  liter- 
ary taste,  and  direct  his  view  to  objects  whicJi  promised 
benefit  to  his  country,  satisfaction  to  his  friends,  and  utllitv^ 
and  honor  to  himself.  The  work  which  he  had  heedlessly 
commenced,  was  considered,  by  the  judicious,  as  the  fruis 
of  an  itch  for  scribbling,  the  materials  for  which,  without  a 
more  extensive  stock  of  ideas,  drawn  from  the  pure  foan- 


102  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

tains  ot  classical  learning,  would  be  soon  exhausted.  The 
pationac^e  of  o:)e,  to  wliom  he  ftds  obligations  which  he 
cannot  expiviss,  lius  placed  within  his  reach  advantages,  the 
rejection  of  vviiich,  would  be  the  height  of  folly  and  ingra- 
titude. A  cojifgiate  education  will,  therefore,  be  the  object 
of  }(!s  prrserst  pursuit,  and  the  study  of  the  law,  the  goal  of 
hig  furare  eT:ertions  ;  and,  determined  exclusively^ to  devote 
himself  to  these  important  objects,  he  now  declares  his  de- 
K'/^ij  of  disconciniiing  rhe  jVIii^ROR,  after  the  publication  of 
r'li'i  nr.nit>cr  (which  completes  the  original  terra  of  engage- 
iKcnt)  and  of  waiting  patiently  the  laurels  ol  famey  until 
science  %\\^\\  expand  his  mind,  and  crown  Iris  labours  with 
lasting  and  deserved  celebrity. 

He  begs  leave  to  express  his  warmest  acknowledgments 
to  those  friendii,  who  have  encouraged  him,  by  their  assist- 
ance, in  the  advancement  of  the  Mirror  ;  he  is»  convinced 
*hat,  feehng  for  his  real  welfare,  they  will  approve  the  step 
which  hi-  ha-j  tai<en :  and  he  assures  them,  that  cherishing 
the  most  grateful  sciJtinvents,  he  will  never  feel  himself  more 
happy,  tlaan  in  the  opportunity  of  expressing  that  esteem, 
*yjth  which  he  is, 

Their  much  obliged. 

And  very  humble  servant, 

JOHN  H.  PAYNE. 


THE  PAGES  INSERTED  IN  THIS  VOLUME  BE- 
TWEEN FOLIOS  164  AND  173,  AND  BETWEEN 
FOLIOS  188  AND  207  ARE  PHOTOLITHOGRAPHIC 
REPRODUCTIONS  MADE  DIRECT  FROM  THE  ORIG- 
INAL PAGES  AS  ISSUED  BY  PAYNE  IN  1805-1806 


N».  XIV. 


THE 


^fftspim   Mivvcx. 


SATUEDAYy  MAY  51,  1806. 


*  If  we  offend,  it  is  with  our  goodwill. 

*  That  you  should  think  we  come  not  toofFcnd* 

*  But  with  goed  will „ 


It  was  the  purpose  of  the  Editor  after  the  distribution  of  the 
last  number  of  the  Thespian  Mirror,  to  have  dismissed  the  work 
with  some  editorial  remarks,  an  index,  and  title  page  for  the  use 
of  such  subscribers  as  considered  the  numbers  worthy  preserva- 
tion ;  but  in  the  execution  of  the  plan,  finding  that  the  design  ex- 
ceeded its  limits,  he  has  been  compelled  to  add  another  to  the  se- 
ries, accompanied  by  the  promised  documents. 

His  first  wish  is  to  express  his  gratitude  for  the  liberal  patron- 
age with  which  the  publication  has  been  honoured,  and  at  the  same 
time  to  declare  hisregret  that  it  was  pot  more  worthy,  that  patron- 
age. Other  avocations,  and  other  engagements  pre-occupit- d  his 
attention;  and  what  little  intervals  of  time  he  was  enabled  to  devote 
to  itjwere  moments  occasionally  stolen  from  the  duties  of  his  em- 
ployment. He  was  often  obliged  to  watch  the  glimmerings  of  the 
midnight  taper,  and  pen  his  lucubrations  in  hours  usually  devo- 
ted to  repose.  His  work  was  undertaken  to  beguile  the  fatigues 
of  an  unple^ng  pursuit — ^it  was  composed  amidst  the  pressures  of 
business — ^it  was  found  that  ^he  contemplated /Ja«?mf  encreased 
cares,  encreased  labours — it  was  then  too  late  to  abandon  the  pro- 
ject— the  unassisted  eiforts  of  a  youth  who  wrote  under  these  nu- 
merous disadvantages  were  giver*  to  the  worJd  in  a  crude,  imper- 
Vol.  I.  My.  14. 


Mi 


NO  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

feet,  and  unfinished  state — criticism  caught  their  errors — the  pub- 
lic were  disappointed — the  editor  cotuieTnned.* 

The  nature  othis  situation  rendered  personal  enemies  indispen- 
sable. The  mistaken  idea  that  criticism  cannot  be  divested  of  per- 
sonalties has  always  an  uofliie  weight  in  the  green  room.  It  is 
believed  that  the  censor,  wlioever  he  be,  is  influenced  by  private 
rancour.  It  is  not  understood  that  a  performer  Jitands  with  the 
public  in  two  views  :  as  a  man  and  as  an  actor.  VVith  the  char- 
acter of  the  former  the  public  has  no  connection  ;  Tlic  latter  is 
ever  liable  tn  investigation. 

»«  AUcommon  exhibitions  open  lie, 

•«  For  praise,  or  censure  to  the  common  eye  ; 

*«  To  clap,  or  hiss  all  have  an  equal  claim, 

**  The  cobler  ajid  his  lordship's  right  the  same." 

When  so  flatteringly  introduced  to  public  notice,   he  was  conn- 

*  The  editor  felt  some:  hesitancy  in  giving  publicity  to  thefbllowing.  If  it 
»avour  ton  much  or  egotism,  (  ^vhirh  wc  feared)  we  ask  the  indulgence  of  our 
readers  toward  arelaiion  of  facts,  which  weconceivedinanianiierdue  to  the 
public,  and  to  ourselves. 

The  projection  of  the  Mirror,  may  be  classed  among' tJiose  juvenile  inad- 
vertencies, apparent  to  a  greater,  or  less  deg-ree  in  all.  Every  ag'e  has  its  fol- 
lies, ajid  those  of  youth,  and  extreme  old  ag-e,  or  second  childhood  are  most 
prolific  of  them.  The  editorof  liiis  work  who  had  always  discovered  an  in- 
clination for  theatrical  amusements,  was  placed  by  his  parents  in  an  high- 
\y  respectable  mercantile  house  in  this  city,  where,  for  the  suppression  of 
that  growing' taste,  he  w3.s  denied  access  to  the  theatre.  Dephvedof  his  favor- 
ite amusement,  he  had  recourse  to  his  pen. 

Without  communicating'  his  plan,  he  composed  a  prospectus  forthe  *  Pas- 
time,' intendedforthepevUsafonlyofyouth  After  .some reflection, considering^ 
the  number  of  papers  called  '  literary,' in  existence,  the  ideaof  a  dulncss  of  pa- 
ii-onage  sii^-^r-stin^  itself,  something- new,  and  som.etliing  striking^  was  neces- 
sary, « to  take.  Believing:  the  habits  of  the  citizens  ofthispface,  better  calcu- 
lated to  encourage  a  work, more intiniatelyconnected  with  theprevailin{i:thirst 
for  pleasure^  he  had  recourse  to  his  favourite  topic,  and  sti'uck  the  plan  of 
the  «Tl>espian  Mm-or  '  He  had  precuniary  supplies  which  enabled  liim  to 
enter  upon  the  work;  the  printers  ware  applibdto  ;  and  from  the  moment 
of'thehrst  projection,  to  that  of  publication,  was  three  days  :  a  space  more 
inconsiderable  when  recollected  that  the  only  time  at  bis  commanxl,  Avas  be- 
fore 8  in  the  morning-,  and  after  8  in  the  evening'.  Three  yotmjj  gentlemen, 
(i.vro  of  them  fellow  clerks  in  the  store)  were  entnisted  with  the  secret.  It 
was  issued  ;  and  as  the.  criticisms  were  composed  on  the  assurattces  of  per- 
sons Immediattly  mterestetl  in  the  stag-e,  an  unfortuniite  mistake  occurrect 
m  commending-  Mr.  Hallam  senr.  forthe  penormanre  of Thorowgood,  which 
on  account  of  his  indisposition  was  read  by  Mr  Ehapter.  Aft?r  the  num- 
ber was  Lssued,  a  few  subscribers  appeared,  and  such  commendatory  notice 
WHS  taken  of  it  in  the  American  Citizens  as  encouraged  the  editor  to  pro- 
ceed. During  the  same  week,  a  note  appeared  in  the  Evening  Post  apolo- 
gising for  the  deby  of  ♦  Crilicas  or,  the  Thespian  Mi'fiX)r.'  The  -nameof  Gvit 


THESPIAN  MIRROR.  Ill 

t^L-nt  that  ill  nature  would  loose  her  tongue,  and  level  her  shafts  at 
one,  wl.o  has  the  vanity  to  believe  himself  superiour  to  her  frowns. 
On  tlie  other  hand,  not  conbidtiinj.;  himself  wholly  deserving  of 
the  approbatory  testimonies  he  has  received,  he  can  only  regret 
his  inability  to  realise  public  exptctatious.  f'or  the  kindness  of 
his  friends,  he  feels  himself  greatly  indebted  ;  to  his  enemies  he 
wish'js  better  employment  ;  and  to  the  performers,  that  they  may 
reap  the  benefit  of  their  exertions,  in  a  Howing  bumper,  and  a  hea- 
vy purse. 

icus  itsrtltd  him...,and  with  fear,  and  trembling,  he  hurried  to  the  countitig- 
room,  and  penned  the  following-  note  to  Mr.  Coleman. 

'  The  ediloi-  of  the  Thespian  Mirror,  having-  observed  a  note  intt)«  Post 
of  this  evenini^,  promising-  some  remarks  on  his  -work,  would  take  the  liberty 
of  askini^  Mr.  Coleman,  whether  tliey  are  or  ar-e  not  in  favour  of  the  publi- 
cation ?  lie  makes  this  request,  which  may  appear  singular,  on  account  fjf 
some  inaccuracies  wiiich  crept  into  the  first  number,  ihroug-h  entii-e  acci- 
dent :  and  which,  though  by  the  community,  they  might  psss  unnoticed 
wotild  not  probabl>' escape  the  attention  of  a  Cnticui.  He  would  furtherobserve 
that  thoug-h  his  extreme  youth,  (being  under  the  ag-e  of  14)  mig-ht,  in  the 
eyes  of  many,  be  considered  sufficient  to  deter  him  l>om  an  undertaking" of 
such  magT.itude,  it  wus  commenced  with  a  laudable  design,  and,  (as  some 
ajjolog^y  tor  its  errors)  "was  an  unassisted  attempt,' 

HIS    ANSWER    WAS    AS    FOLLOWS. 

•  Mr.  Coleman  is  sorry  to  be  compelled  to  ans  wcr  tlie  editor  of  the  Tlies- 
pian  Mirror,  in  amwnr.er  ojipleasant  to  him  ;  but  lie  has  to  inform  him,  that 
the  renuirks  oit  the  Thespian  Mirror,  are  unfavourohle ;  and  he  will  iu  can- 
dour add,  that  Criticus  was  detained,  that  his  remarks  might  be  Btill  fur- 
ther extended  and  enforced  by  himself,  and  at  the  same  time  that  proper 
and  approbatory  notice  might  be  taken  by  him,  in  the  same  article,  of  the 
Theatrical  Censor,  of  Philadelohia,  a  work  of  unusual  merit.' 

'  The  note  of  the  editor  of  the  Thespian  Mirr.oj-,  mentioning  the  extreme 
youth  of  the  wtiier,  must  disarm  him  of  severity  .-  and  he  -would  be  glad  to 
see  the  juvenile  autlior  at  his  house,  to  talte  tea  with  "him  this  evening.  No.  30 
Hudson-street.  Perhaps  the  visit  ma/  not  be  unserviceable  to  thir  youne, 
gentleman  in  his  future  progress.' 

Detained  by  counting  room  avocations  tillpajst  8,  the  editor  did  not  see  Mr. 
C  till  the  next  morning-.  He  then  observed  that  the  principal  defect  of  the 
Mirror  was  indiscriminate  prais-e,  and  that  the  essay  of  Criticus  wag  chiefly 
aimed  at  that  fault,  of  which  he  had  adduced  some  specimens.  He  recom- 
mended the  suspension  of  the  work,  and  that  addressing  himself  to  the 
public,  he  should  declare  his  inabiJitv  to  continue  it«  editorial  dutiei.  - 
Prompted  perhaps,  by  vanity,  the  proposal  was  declined,  and  Mr,  C.  volun- 
teered his  services  in  favour  of  the  undertaking.  These  he- then  gave,  &hd  for 
that' assistance  has  every  acknowledgement  to  which  his  kindness  is  so  just- 
ly entitled.  After  the  publicjition  of  Mr.  Coleman's  remarks  on  the  Mirror, 
the  situation  of  the  new  editor  thus  became  known  to  his  parents,  and  the 
{gentleman  under  whose  care  he  was  placed.  After  his  circumstancei  were 
understood,  several  friends  exerted  their  influence  in  his  behalf;  and  now 
detached  frmn  toe  labours  of  a  mercantile  lii'e,  he  is  situated  within  the 
reach  of  all  the  pleasures  -and  all  the  advantages  of  literature. 


. ^^      -      _^ ^ ...  ^.  . ->.. .^^=....:...:^ a^.        .^,....:^,      ^.i— j-iB^i 


112  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

Cbeatn'cal  Eemailts, 

, 'Tnith,  tlio'  RQnietimes  clad 

»  In  p'liuful  lustre,  yet  is  alwavss  •welcome  : 

'  Dnar  as  the  li^'lit  that  shows  the  lurking-  roct  . 

*  *Tis  the  fidr  stai-,  that  no  er  into  the  nviln 

*  Descending-,  leads  us  safe  tliro"  stornr.y  hte.' 

We  have  been  'cudgelling'  our  '  dull  pates'  for  an  houi:,  !ro  ekt 
out  some  Striking  exordium  to  these  our  remarks  on  the  ladies 
and  gentlemen  of  the  sock  and  buskin  :  but  in  vain. ...the  '  spirit' 
was  obstinate,  and  did  not  '  move'.... w^ords  were  sulky,  and  would 
not  come  forth  :  oUr  pen,  dull  as  our  wit,  was  old  and  pointless,  and 
we  are  compelled  to  bring 

MR.  COOPER 
to  the  bar  of  criticism,  without  giving  notice  of  trial.  We  should 
not  be  astonished,  should  the  court  ring  with  applause  at  his  ent- 
rance, or  the  judge  want  firmness  to  pronounce  the  sentence  on  hii 
errors.  But  we  really  believe  that  Mr.  Cooper's  vicious  habits  are 
not  so  deeply  rooted-  as  to  be  out  of  the  cognizance  of  time  and  ex- 
perience. He  is  peculiarly  the  favorite  of  nature,  and  almost  inva- 
riably follows  her  dictates.  His  faults  have  so  often  been  canvass- 
edj  that  little  or  nothing  is  left  for  the  critic,  but  to  complain  in  the 
hackneyed  strain  of  hh  rant ;  of  his  want  of  application  ;  and  of  the 
inequality  of  his  acting.  Far  be  it  from  us  to  contradict  either  of 
these  charges" ;  we  cannot  disprove  them.  '  Every  man  to  his 
taste,'  says  tlie  proverb  i  and  every  man  who  has  seen  Cooper,  (we' 
should  say  admired^  for  we  should  be  Inclined  to  censure  the  tat.te 
of  any  one  who  has  seen,  without  admiring  him)  is  peculiarly  dispos- 
ed to  rest  his  applause  on  some  one  of  his  characters.  For  ourselves, 
t'^ough  we  aspire  not  to  the  honour  of  manhood,  our  taste  iti  greatly 
in  favour  of  his  Othello,  and  hext  to  that  his  Iia?nlet.  But  a  new  star 
in  the  constellation  of  his  excellencies,  has  made  its  appearance.... 
.Re-ucrly:  and  in  splendour  asd  mas^nificencejitbids  fair  to  rival  and  to 
eclipse  the  rest.  Much  has  been  said  of  the  comparative  merits  of 
Mr.  Cooper  and  Mr.  Kemble,  and  many  contratlictory  opinions 
have  been  suggested. ...but  we  have  seen  nothing  which  we  believed 
from  ou»'  best  dSiUrances,  more  perfectly  just,  than  the  foUowinsj, 


THESPIAN  MIRROR  113 

by  that  friendly  guardian  to  the  stage,  the  TAeatrical  Cmevr.  '  It  is 
not  our  iiitervlion  to  institute  any  comparison  bel.^s  een  Mr.  C.  and 
the  classic  performer  of  Covent  Garden  Theatre.  Mr.  C's.  merits 
are  derived  from  nature  and  cultivation,  and  arc  not  mimic.  If 
we  mention  his  name  in  company,  with  that  of  Mr.  Kemble,  it  shall 
only  be  to  observe,  that  if  the  latter  be  the  greater,  the  former  is,  in 
our  judgment,  the  more  pleasing  of  the  tM'o.'  Jfifirohaticn  from 
Cir  Hubert  Stanlty^  is  praise  indeed. 

*  Whatever  passions  g^all  the  hum.an  breast, 

'  Play  in  thy  features  or  await  thy  nod, 
'  In  thee,  by  art,  the  demon  stands  confest, 

'  But  nature  on  thy  soul  has  stamp'd  the  God. 

Next  to  !\Ir.  Cooper,  fame  has  awarded  a  laurel  to  Mr.  Fennel. 
This  gentleman  possesse3,over  many  of  his  ftUow  actors,  tht-  singu- 
lar superiority  of  a  well  cultivated  mind  :  but  according  to  the  old 
adage,  it  is  only  '  robbing  Peter  to  pay  Paul,'  for  with  all  the  ad- 
vantages of  literature,  he  cannot  creep  into  an  empty  corner  of  the 
soul.  The  ladies  will  not  weep,  the  gentlemen  will  not  cry  '  bravo  T 
We  believe  Mr.  Fennel  to  be  a  gentleman,  a  scholar,  and  an  orator, 
but  as  to  acting,  his  is  too  laboured  to  be  pronounced  excellent. ...too 
greai  to  be  called  bad.  It  has  a  certain  false  fulnes-s,  tjic  appear- 
ance cf  a  certain  completeness,  which  often  satisfies  an  audience, 
wbile  it  is  yet  far  below  perfection,*  and  far  above  mediocrity. 

Our  comical  f'-iends,  Harwood,  Jefferson,  Twaits.t  and  Hogg, 
arc  conjointly  arraigned  to  receive  sentence.  But  no  sooner  do 
they  appear  at  the  bar,  than  a  natural  association  of  ideas,  robs  the 
judge  of  his  steady  phiz,  and  convulses  the  courfwith  laughter.... 
Momus  descends.,  crowns  his  favourites  with  tne  wreath  of  fame  : 
awards  to  thorn  a  throne  in  the  temple  of  Mirth....and  wafts  them 
to  regions  where  uncontrouled  reign, 

*  Sport,  that  wrinkled  care  derides, 
'  And  laughter  nolding'  both  his  sides.' 

Theatrical  Censor,  p   120. 
f  A  severe  aothniatic  affection  has  deprived  Mr.  Twajts,- sincehis  arrival 
inthisciL/,  of  the  us*^  of  his  bed.     Consequently,  linder  such  a  pressure  of 
bodily  afRiction,  no  competent  judgment  can  be  formed  of  his  powers!     As 

acomic  singer  he  ha;?,  wft  presun^e,,m>  superior  on  the  American  stage 

'His  range  of  4ctJon  is  the<iuered  by  many  excellencies,  which  seen  sepei-ate- 
ly,  charm  by  their  appropristion.* 


I  lA  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

Mr.  Young  is  a  gentleman  of  improving  abilities,  &nd  e'5tima'3le 
talents.  Ke  ])osscssl"3  a  i^ood  person,  l)Ut  a  I)ad  carriage.  When  he 
v.-alk-^,  he  ^teps  iiks  an  automaton.  When  he  spcakS;  the  drci\vliii|r 
monotone  ot  his.  utterance,  exercises  equally  our  patieiice  and  our 
e£r».  When  he  gesticuhites,  liis  whole  botly  is  in  i-notion  wiili  his 
hai:d.  In  threateninf^,  he  shakes  hi;>  list,  as  irto  invite  a  pugilistic 
encounter  :  at  llie  samti  lilne  casting  his  eyes  alternately  to  his  feet, 
and  to  the  audience.  In  comedy  he  is  addicted  to  the  vulgar  prat- 
licc  of  kickini^:  his  heels,  and  snupping  his  liiv^jers.  His  merits  arci 
however,  prominent.  He  speaks  with  life,  -with  feeling,  with  discri- 
mination. His  orthoepy  rnay  be  materially  corrected  :  and  we  re- 
commend L'>  him  t!ie  ptrusrJ  of  Sheridan's  Lectures  on  Eloc\!tion, 
where  he  will  find  souie  inj;(ro\  lug  hintr  This  able  writer  remarks 
that  by  alterinj^  the  sound  of  the  a,  and  e,  much  more  might  be 
done  to  elTect  a  cure  fur  the  provincial  disease,  than  is  apparent  ... 
riius  for  arrarA-,  \va  say  errors — for  abasement,  we  say  nb.'/seuient : 
cdmpressin?^  the  sound  of  the  a,  instead  of  making  it  ah.  Wc  are 
told  Mr.  Y.  complains  of  our  want  of  lenity. ...We  confess  we  have 
been  rather  severe,  but  not  unjust  to  Mr.  Young  ;  and  it  was  rather 
to  sec  talents  suscej)tible  as  his,  strengthened,  cultivated,  and  ma- 
tilred,  than  from  any  personal  dislike  or  private  resentment. 

Mr.  i^Iartin  is  an  useful  performer.  lie  seldom  sinks  below 
mediocrity  ;  often  rises  to  excellence.  His  range  of  acting  is  exten- 
sive.    "  In  short,  as  a  great  author  says,  he  is  up  to  every  thing." 

The  Hallam  family  has  the  nierit  ofus.fuhieas.  Mr.  H  .sen.  has 
beena  faithful  sevvanttothestage,fornearly  half  a  century.  Young 
Hallam,  as  he  is  called,  has  trodden  the  boards  in  this  city  so  long, 
that  the  publxc  would  scarcely  know  how  to  do  without  him.  If  he 
would  move  less  in  circles,  and  sometimes  stretch  and  straiten  his 
ai*ms,  we  confess  that  we  believe  it  would  cxhilirate  his  body,  And 
g|ve  himself  and  the  public  uncommonly  pic  isurable  sensations. 

Mr.  Shaf»ter.has  a  remarkably  good  bass  vo'ce  ;  and  possesses 
musical  skill.  He  is  no  actor.  The  abilities  of  Mr.  Roljii»^on  are 
not  inconsiderable.  Were  he  possessed  of  more  fire,  he  might 
aspire  to  a  morg  exalted  sphere.  'I'hc  path  of  eminence  is  open  to 
him. 

Our  spirits  begin  to  llag  at  the  undertaking  we  Jiave  coujmen- 
ced  We  find  criticism  on  our  performers,  with  a  fcv/  cxceplioiis, 
a  '  stale,  flat  nnd  unprofitable'  taak.     But  it  is  too  late  to  retrench  j 


THESVIAN  MIRROR.  115 

the  *  printers  devil'  at  our  elbow,  calls  aloud  for  the  manuscript  , 
and  after  paying  a  tribute  of  respect  to  two  g-cntkman  ot"  distin- 
guished worth,  deserving  actors,  and  exceiknt  iKanagers,  (  Messr:;. 
Tyler  and  Johnson)  Ave  proceed  to  notice  u  constt^Huticn  of  female 
merit,  of  which  Mrs.  Johnson  is  a  stai-  of  the  first  niagniiudc.  A 
distinguished  favouriteis Mrs.  Jones-;  hcr's  are  the  co!>jo!nt:(!  ciaiir.s 
of  an  injured,  a  deserted  wife,  and  an  unrivalled  actress.  *■  S/ie  is 
as  firetty  a  x-iHu^-c  lasa  as  c-uc-r  Tan  upon  the grecji.  ai-^ard.'  Her  mu- 
sical powers  arc  super-eminent.  She  is  alike  the  sentimental  giri; 
the  country  minx,  the  pettish  boy, and  the  elegiint  wonum.  Where- 
I'ever  she  h,  she  is  distincjuished  :  in  whatever  she  assumes,  she  is 
exquibile. 

Mrs.  Viiliers  has  merit.  Mrs.  Barret  possesses  great  powers 
and  she  generally  appears  desirous  to  give  satisfaction.  But  '  her 
humour  is  [too  much]  for  a  tyrant,  or  a  part  to  tear  a  cat  in,  tt* 
maJce  all  split.'  We  reiterate  what  we  have  again  and  again  repeat- 
ed, that  she  should  sometimes  descend  from  the  elevation  of  the 
sublime,  to  the  simplicity,  the  modealij  of  nature^  acd  *-  speak  in  a 
monstrous  little  voice.' 


Cljeatrual  g^craps. 

Morton's  clcg'.'int  coincciy  of  the  •  School  of"Ref«)rn),'  lias  been  acted  se- 
vcnil  times  in  tJiis  city,  with  g';neral  approbation.  It  received  its  prliicip:*! 
support  from  thehoneyt,"  liomcly,  Tarragono^yiv.  H:iruood,  andfrviin  Hogjj's 
*  outcast  of  virtue,'  Robert  Tyke.  Tlie  texture  of  the  play  lias  nothing^  fiimsy 
or  estxavagant  about  it.  The  character  of  Tyke  is  calculated  deeply  to  in- 
terest tlic  heart,  -vviiilc  it  con\  eys  u  most  stvikintj  ajid  imj)ortant  m(!i-al. 

Mr.  Twuits  made  ^  ulebut  in  Ricliard  III,  and  waa  well  received.  His 
performance  was  curious  and  novel,  but  not  calculated  to  interest  or  to  strike. 
With  Mr.  Cooper's  ])oweis,  and  hi.'i  own  conception,  the  personation  could 
not  liave  been  surpassed. 

Master  Barret  has  twice  attempted  tlie  part  of  Young-  Norval his  second 

was  liir  better  than  his  tii-st  es.say.  We  canntjt  say  that  tlie  perf  ;rmance 
either  interested  om*  feeling-s,  or  wrougiit  upon  our  sensibility  but  it  i^ave 
proof  of  talents,  v.  hich  enlarg-ed  and  cultivated,  projr.iae  wcU  for  future  ex- 
cellence. 

Mr.  Youn^  gui'e  an  earnest  of  promisint^  powers,  in   the  .Strangfer.   per 


"'^^'■*>'*~°-*^— ^"-"^^--^ 


116  THESPiAN  MIRROR. 

formed  at  his  own  benefit.  We  confess  that  we  went  rather  from  curiosity, 
tkan  any  other  cause.  We  were,  however,  agreeably  dis:ippointtd.  «  My 
son  Peter,'  was  comJcalJy   sustained  by  a  noviciate. 

We  have  been  ^eatly  pleased  with  the  eldest  Miss  Hodgkmson'd  penbr 
lYianoe  of  Tom  Thumb.  She  possesses  all  the  g-enius  of  her  fatJier,  <-.haste!i 
od  by  tOL  sweetness  ofher  motner. 

<  'Twas  a  chylde  that  .soe  divide  thryv^e, 

♦  In  grace  and  feature, 

<  Thatte  heav'n  and  nature  scem'dtostryve, 

♦  Whicli  OMTi'd  the  creature.' 

Being- present  at  the  representation  of  «  A  Cure;  for  the  Heart  Ache,  we 
cannot  witlihold  a  tribute  of  applause,  from  Messrs.  lI:u-wood  and  Twarts, 
for  Iheii-  exeellence  in  Young'  Rapid  and  Frank .Oatland. 

We  learn  with  pleasure,  that  the  dramatic  works  of  Mr.  Dunlap,  are 
nearly  ready  for  deliveiy.  In  a  cause  so  interesting-  to  American  literature, 
and  to  the  Aifterican  stage,  it  is  to-behopedpatronag-e  will  not  slumber.  If 
foreig;'.  plays  are  printed,  .sold,  and  re-printed  in  America,  w^bere  is  patrio- 
tism, that  the  exertions'of  native  gpnius  are  discountenanced,  and  di-  coiu-ag- 
ed  ?  Where  sleeps  the  public  spirit,  which  gives  the  literature  of  its  coun- 
try to  lumber  the  shelves  of  the  bookseller  I  And  why  is  native  gemus  al- 
lowed  to  waste  itself  in  obscui-ity,  when  editions  of  foreign  publications  arc- 
multiplied  in  our  cities  ?  '  From  the  situation  of  Mr.  Dunlap',  s.ijs  the  ele- 
gant editor  of  the  Port  Folio,  '  as  a  man  of  letters,  a  man  of  misfortunes,  and 
one  of  the  earliest  votaries  of  the  dramatic  muse  in  America,  his  works  not 
only  solicit,  but  deserve  the  regard  of  all  who  value  tliemselvcs,  upon  th&ii- 
zeal  for  the  productions  of  domestic  literature.' 


READINGS    AND    RECITATIONS. 


MR.    FENNEL. 

<  Tit  for  Tat' the  public  seemed  to  say  to  Mr.  Fennel :  and  perhaps  hi£ 

ill  success,  is,  in  some  manner  attributable  to  aspiritof  retaliation, on  the  party 
formed  in  Piiiladelphia,  to  svq:qx)rt  Mr.  F's.  efforts  in  this  line,  to  the  deser- 
tion of  Mr.  Cooper  at  the  theatre.  We  attended  his  last,  when  we  wei* 
presented  witli  some  ah'e  specimens  of  elocution.  The  receipts  on  both 
occosiojis,  did  not  much,  exceed  fifteen  dojlars, 

MRS.    HAMltiTOK. 

The  opinions  wMch  we  had  heaj''d  of  Mrs.  Hamilton  were  so  contradic- 
tory, that,  determining  to  satisfy  ourselves  of  her  claims  to  patronage,  we  at- 
tcnd'^d  tiie  two  Irist  of  her  eihibitions,  that  of  Saturday,  and.  that  of  Tuesday 


THESPIAN  MIRROR.  1 17 

e\enin£r-  Soirte  declared  her  recitations  very  g'Cod  ;  othei's  gave  out  that 
ihey  were  very  bad — some  too,  asserted  that  she  rivalled  Mrs.  SidcVrjns,  others, 
that  slie  imitated  Mrs.  Barret !  On  the  first  occasioti  ol"  oiir  attoidance  we 
went  to  be  pleased  ;  on  the  second,  like  fuU'gro'.vn  alttcs,  w^e  attended  to 
find  fault.  Altlioughit  may  soem  somewhat  paradoxical,  we  v.^ere  not  grati. 
fied  on  the  former  occasion  ;  on  the  latter  we  saw  little  wuicli  wc  could  not 
commend  ;  but  so  intent  were  we  on  the  object  of  our  visit,  diat  we  &ieze<l 
every «  looj)  hole,  on  which  we  could  re.st  an  error  :  (vnd  here  prejent  tliero  in 
propria  persona,  « to  plague  1h'  inventor.'  In  t.'iO  lii'btplttce,  we  ai'c  nnich  dis- 
posed to  censure  the  lady's  cmpliasis,  in  refldiiig  and  reciting  verse  :  ^he  has 
to:;  much  of  what  we  g-entlemen  cf  thr-  quill  dig-nify  iiy  tlic  name  oWar.t:  with 
a  fault  of  the  old  school  in  emphasising  inconsiderable  ^vojxis,  and  lavinj^  a 
6ti-e.ss  upon  the  poetical  syliahle,  as  thus  .• 

'He  in  his  bridal  TRiMSOgaVj 

•  She  in  her  winding-  sheet.'  Lucy  &  Colin 

Nor  skall  her  interpolation-^  e  scajie  ihe  lasli  oi"  our  severity ;  Mrs.  H.  reads 
in  Sterne's  Picture  of  Slavery, 
«  Source  hiexhaustible  of  all  our  plrasurcs,  said  I  addressing '>ny^e!f  to  Liberty^ 

This  appears  sometliing  iik.".  what  the  cntics  rail  bathos.  We  i).ive  ano- 
ther lnr''ta.TiC£  of  ti^e  same  kind  after  Sempronius  terminates  his  speech  lor 
wilP  ,  Mrs   H.  makes  him  to  say, 

*  Cato,  now  once  ag-ain  let's  hear  you  speaK.' 

Tliif  reminds  us  of  a  pnppetshew  exhibition,  in  nhlch  ?^?r.  PnncI'  is  inadc 
to  teD  lais  wife  : 

«•  Come  Dolly,  new  speak  you." 

They  tvere  both  probably  jtiterded  fu-  tUc-  .sa^ne  parpo.se — vo  itirarm  tlie 
audience  who  is  lalking,  and  to  be  sure  it  is  a  very  dtsirabie  etd;  but  fcr 
citTJelves,  we  should  probably  liave  said  sovnetliinigtf'  this  purpose  .- 

*  Sempvonius  havir^  spoken,  Cato  rises,  and  exhorts  him  to  moderation,' 

But  w^e  wish  not  that  Mrs.  Hamilton  .shonid  disci -aa  our  charity we  have' 

a  spark  of  csridoiir — a  spark  of  galjamtry— and  a  spi-ji^k  (we  hope';  of  taste  • 
and  so,  ujjon  the  whole,  ^e  may  consider  iis  as  a  KpajHsh  editor.  Bnt  witli- 
out  any  of  t))ese  requisites,  justice  alone  would  ct-mpel  Us  tf>  pronounce  a pan- 
egyi-ic  on  her  merit.  Wc  ^ve  Ivev  err^>is  a  front  serf,  tlmt  hex-  joerits  may 
overlook  them.  Her  Lncyaiul  Ck)l!n  ;  Rolla'rj  Address  (  Ehira's  SuUloquy  ; 
and  the  Rebel  :  we  consider  instances  u>f  a  superlour  tastf.  and  refined  ex- 
ecution :  but  Mrs  H.  must  excuse  onr  n'iinknessindeciJvri.ng-that  we  beiievc 
the  *  Ode  ontlie  Passions,'  her  mostindifferent  attempt.  Time  and  room,  two 
gentle  foUcs  whom  we  have  always  to  cousultin  our  editorial  lahiJui-fc;  have  j  e- 
pep.tedly  warned  us,  but  now  iimut,  that  we  sliould  be  silent  :  and  therefore 
if  anyone  wishes  a  proof  .-.f  Mrs.  Humiitons  merit,  be  tiie  patron-ip-e  ofadis, 
ting-uLshed  farafjy  of  this  city,  who  wiuid  never  esiend  tlieii-  inSucnce  to  a 
worthless  object,  tlie  test  of  her  excellence. 

B 


118  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

'  Variety  is  charming, 

'  Constancy  is  not  for  me  ; 
*  So  ladies,  you  have  warning.' 


Old  Ballad. 


beauty's  value. 
Stated  to  have  been  prt)ttedfmn  a  corrected  manuscnfit,  and  originally  'Mriffen  by 

Skaispeare. 

See  Gent.  Mag-,  .for  Oct  1 7.^G 
Beauty  is  but  avaMi  and  fleeting  good, 

A  shining  g'loss  thr.t  fadeth  suddenl} , 
A  flow'rthat  dies  when  almost  in  the  bud, 
A  brittle  glass  that  breaketh  presently  : 
A  fleeting  gt^'d,  a  gloss,  a  glass,  a  flow'r. 
Lost,  faded,  broken,  dead,  within  an  hour. 
As  goods  when  lost  are  wond'i-ous  seldom  found, 

As  faded  gloss  no  rubbing  can  excite. 
As  flowers  when  dead  are  trampled  on  the  ground, 

As  broken  glass  no  cement  can  unite  ; 
So  beauty  blemish'd  once  is  ever  lost. 
In  spite  of  piiysic,  painting,  pains,  and  cost. 

QUAINT    TITLES. 

The  prevailing  rage  tc  catch  the  public  ear  by  some  specious  or 
surprising  m/<?,  has  rendered  many  authors  as  ridicuicus,  innaiit- 
ing  their  works,  as  quucks  or  mountebanks.  We  have  been  pes- 
tered with  '  Mysteries  elucidated' — '  Mystery  of  Mysteries' — My 
Uncle  Thomas' — '  Out  at  last' — '  Man  as  he  is  not' — '  \Voman.  as 
she  should  be  :'  and  many  things  which  should  not  bt.  Among 
others  *  St.  Godwin,  by  St.  Leon' — on  which  an  irritated  iv9.g  was 
revenged  by  exhibiting  at  the  side  of  it  *  St.  Devils  by  Satan.' 

But  novelists  are  not  alone  in  this  prostitution  of  literature.  In 
professional  knowledge  there  is  practised  a  kind  of  swindling,  equal- 
led only  by  that  political  swindling,  which  has  helped  many  a  jockey 
in  to  office,  in  a  certain  somewhere  this  side  of  the  moon.  '  Every 
man  his  own  lawyer^'  and  '  Every  man  his  oiim  doctcvy  and  titles, 
by  which  scribblers  induce  the  unlettered  to  buy  their  viie  trash. 
We  expect  the  next  new  cdtch'fienny  production  will  be  some  law/e 
dissertation,  with  the  equally  consistent  and  pretty  title  of '  Every 
manhia  cwn  toifr.'  Troy  Gaz. 


THESPIAN  MIRROR  il9 

Tht  foUoviing  u  a  translation  of  a  letter  prctenied  by  a  heathen  •histonan.    It  h 
an  important  document  among  the  extraneous  proofs  cfthe 
real  existence  of  our  J^lessed  Redeemer. 
An  Epistle  to  the  Senate  of  Rome,  in  the  davs  sf  Tiberius  Caesar,  conceminr 
Jescs  Ckrist,  by  Pubiius  Lentilus,  an  officer  of  high  rank  in  the  Roman 
amiy,  then  in  Judea,  and  the  only  person  of  that  nation,  who  sent  anv  ac- 
count to  Rome  of  so  ^xtraordiniiry  an  event,  as -mentioned  bj  V.  Paterculu*. 
There  appeared  in  these  our  days  a  man  of  great  virtue,  named  Jesus 
Christ,  who  is  yet  living'  amongst  us,  and  of  the  gentiles  is  accepted  for  a 
prophet  of  truth,  but  his  own  disciples  call  him  the  Soji  of  God.     He  raiseth 
the  dead,  and  curcth  aU  manner  of  diseases.    A  man  of  stature,  somewhat  tall 
and  comely,   with  a  very  reverend  countenance,    suah  as  the  beholder-s  may 
b©th  fear  and  love  :  liis  hair  is  of  the  colour  of  tlie  tilbert,  full  ripe,  and  plain 
almost  down  to  his  ears,  but  from  his  ears  dovmwartl,  somewhat  curled,  and 
more  orient  of  coloiu-,  waving  al>out  his  should^ rs  .   In  the.  midst  of  his  liead 
goeth  a  seam  or  partition,  after  the  manner  of  tlie  Nazarites  ;  his  forehead 
•<cvy  plain  and  smooth  ;  his  face  witliout  spot  or  •WTinkle,  beautified  with  a 
comely  red  ;  his  nose  and  mouth  so  formed  as  notliing  can  be  reprehended  ; 
his  beard  somewhat  thick,  ag-reeable  in  colour  to  the  nair  of  his  head,  not  of 
any  great  length,  but  forked  in  the  midst  ;  of  an  nnocent  and  mature  look  ; 
his  eyes  clear  and  quick-  in  reproving  he  is  terrible  j  in  adiiienishing,  couil- 
rous  and  fair  spoken  ;  pleasant  in  speech  mixed  \j'tli  gravity.     It  cannot  be 
remembered  that  any  have  seen  hirn  laugh,  but  many  have  seen  him  weep. 
In  proportion  of  body,  well-shaped  and  straight,  his  hands  delectable  to  be- 
hold.   In  speaking,  very  temperate,   modest  and  mse.     A.  man  for  his  sin- 
gular beauty,  surpassing  the  childi-en  of  men. 

7!4<?  foUf/mng  is  said  to  have  been  the  production  of  Shakespeape....  Jt.  is  /«. 

scribed  on  on  the  fat  stone  covering  his  gruvfi,  in  the  church  at 

Stratford.     It  is  cut,  spelt,  and  arranged,  as  published. 

Good  Frend  for  lesus  SAKE  forbeare 
To  dicG  T-E  Dust  EncloAsed  HERe 

T 

J31esebeT-E  Man  y  spares  T-Es  Stones 
And  curst  be  He  "L  moves  my  Bones. 

J  KDtt  describing  the  universal  empire  of  love,   dttJly  describes  its  onaet  cmicng 
the  famy  race. 

i ,.>..> •  Love  assails 

'  And  waims,  'nud  &ea»<)f  ice,  the  melting  whale.^. 
«  Cools  crimped  cod,  <«rce  paiigs  to  perch  imparts, 
•  Shrinks  shrivelled  shrimps,  suid  opens  oyster's  heai-ts.* 


130  THESPIAN  MIRROR. 

For  the  Thespian  Mirrw. 


ARIOSO. 

Let  others  chaunt,  let  others  praisa. 
In  mtlttug  strains....in>pa9sion'd  lays. 

Their  Daphne's Penseroso'a : 

In  rustic  numbers  I  will  sin^, 

That  heav'n  in  smiles,  tliat  beauteous  spring. 

Which  beams  in  Arioso. 

While  Cupid's  laughing  in  her  eyes, 
The  soft,  unguarded  heart  surprise. 

Before  their  arrows  felt : 
The  tender  sxiflPrer  'tempts  in  vain. 
To  ease  his  care,  relieve  his  pain. 

He.  niust  in  angTiish  melt ! 

O !  for  <  a  muse  of  fiie'  to  tell, 

Hoyr  virtue,  worth,  and  sweetness  dwell, 

Comfam'diB  An  to  sot 
To  speak  the  beauties  of  liiat  mien, 

Whert:  *  loose  a  Goddess moves  a  Queen,' 

>.t._..Of  sweetest  Arioso  \ 


A  WRiXBuin  a  late  PoHfolio  gives  the  following  reading  to  tlus  passag-e 
<Sf  Cato's  Soi.ix.O(y;Y } 

*?"?,?  the  divinity  that  stirs  taithin  ut, 

•Tis  Heaven  itstlf,  that  points  out  an  hereafter, 

jinfi  intitiiates  eternity  to  man. 

Ws  have  here,  not  two  propositions,  but  one  It  is  not  that,  « 'li^the  di- 
Vi>iit7  <:bat  stirs  withtJi  im,'  and  *  Heav'n  itself,  th».t  potnts  out  an  hereafter  ;' 
but,  that  '  'tis  the  divihity-that-stirs-witlun-us— 'tis  Heaven  itself— that  points 
out  an  hereafter  :'  the  «  diw.:ty  tliat  stirs  within  us,'  is  not  more  than  Ad- 
dison' 3  parapln-ase  of  the  Platonic  exiwesslon,  the  god  within  the  inind.  It 
may  be  ofase'.  v,-iL  that,  by  the  help  of  tlie  second  term,  «  'tis  Hea\-*n  itself,' 
Addison  n.odemi-es  the  sentiment,  uniting  the  doctrines  of  Plato  with  our 
own;  and  T.biM>  rendering  the  languag-e,  appropriate  to  the  mouth  of  Goto, 
agreeab:.!i  aito  to  the  ears  oF&  Christian  audience. 

FINIS. 


GENERAL  LIBRARY 
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